Re-Freeze
by martianfairy
Summary: The last time Anna jumped, Elsa knew that she was too late to catch her in the air, so instead she aimed at the ground with every bit of focus she had. Anna landed safely in a huge snow drift, created only seconds before she hit the ground. An AU in which Anna was never hit by Elsa's powers as a child;years later when a world of magic is revealed by stranger, everything changes.
1. Chapter 1

Hi Guys! I'm super excited about writing this story, I got to thinking about the idea a while ago and was pretty fascinated so I wrote a fanfic of course. Please favorite, follow, and review as the more support I have the more likely it will be that I finish this (constructive criticism is also welcome) ; I really want to, but the plot is going to be pretty long and sometimes I lack motivation.

Thanks for reading!

I don't in any way own Frozen or any of its characters.

* * *

><p>It was the break of dawn in Arendelle. The northern lights were just beginning to fade, making way for the sun's arrival. The city had yet to start it's bustling routine, and everyone was still nestled in their beds; everyone, that is, except for a little princess who was sneaking rather clumsily across her room to her sister's bed.<p>

"Elsa?" she half whispered, strawberry blond hair glistening in the pale yellow light of the sunrise as she made her way towards the large bed—complete with a pink canopy.

No response came from the beautiful girl.

The younger child quickly wondered how her sister's hair could possibly stay so perfectly in place through a long night's sleep.

"Psst, _Elsa,_" the princess said again, this time in a louder and more demanding whisper. She climbed on top of the tall bed with some amount of effort and sat up with her legs criss-crossed.

Since there was still no sign of movement coming from Elsa, the younger princess decided it was time to take drastic measures. This of course meant that she plopped down on Elsa and then bounced as fast and hard as her little body could manage.

"Wake up! Wake up! _Wake_ _up!" _she yelled, not quite at the top of her lungs—she had given up on being sneaky.

This time, a loud groan escaped the older girl's mouth accompanied by a mournful, "Anna go back to sleep!"

Elsa then flopped over on the other side of her pillow, hoping this would convince Anna to leave her in peace. However, Anna was not so easily evaded.

The little princess hopped up once more, this time landing squarely with her back on top of Elsa's.

"I can't!" Anna sighed—quite dramatically, "The _sky's_ awake, so _I'm_ awake, so we have to _play!"_

The small girl bounced a bit on the last word for emphasis and her pigtails practically quivered with excited energy.

Elsa, still unconvinced and very tired, croaked, "Go play by yourself."

Then, in one swift movement, Elsa rolled over and pushed Anna off of the bed. She was sure that this time she had beaten her sister, so she settled back into her pillow hoping to fall asleep quickly.

Anna lie in defeat for only a moment before she had an idea. She grinned to herself knowing that Elsa wouldn't be able to refuse. She slowly rose up to the bed, peering over so that only her ocean blue eyes and the tips of her pigtails could be seen.

"Do you wanna build a _snowman?" _she asked, drawing out the last word; she liked the way it rolled off of her tongue.

At this, Elsa's eyes peeked open mischievously, and even though Anna couldn't see the slight movement—she could feel that she had won.

* * *

><p>As Anna and she were running through the palace's wide hallways and down its polished grand staircases, Elsa wondered if she could ever have a more perfect time than she did on mornings like these. She felt a rush of excitement every time she and Anna did this, and she loved the look on her little sister's face when she made gleaming white snow burst into the air from the palm of her hand.<p>

And of course there was always the fun that came after that.

When the two princesses reached the ballroom—their usual place for snow adventures— Elsa stood still, a mischievous smile on her face. She wanted to let the excitement build.

Anna, who was always a good audience, waited only a moment before she giggled, "Do the magic! Do the magic!"

That was all the prompting Elsa needed. She laughed as she pressed her hands together, and immediately a small ball of gleaming ice formed. Then, she opened her palms and the ball exploded into a thousand tiny white snowflakes, showering the room.

"_This is amazing_!" Anna squealed, jumping up and down.

Elsa grinned and then thought of an even better way to have fun.

"Watch this," she said in a hushed tone, as though she was revealing a wonderful secret.

Then she simply stomped her foot, and a sheet of fresh ice covered the floor. She thought that there was no better way to make Anna smile than a little impromptu ice skating.

The younger princess began inadvertently sliding along the ice, which caused her to have yet another fit of laughter. Elsa wondered how such a little body could produce_ that much laughter_.

After a while of slipping around on the ice and steadying Anna in her ungraceful pursuits of skating, Elsa remembered the all-time _best_ way to entertain her sister. She called Anna over to help her roll three huge snowballs and then stacked them tediously on top of each other.

The older girl then ran outdoors to fetch several sticks along with the rest of the supplies she would need for the snowman. The temperature was shockingly high out there compared to the snowy haven inside. As she gathered, all she could think about was Anna's laughter and the fuzzy warm feeling she had in her stomach.

Elsa was outside for only a moment before she slid back indoors and positioned the sticks to form the snowman's arms. After she finished the arms, she quickly stuck the rest of her supplies into what would soon be the snowman's face. It didn't bother her that her creation wasn't beautiful. She figured it would be funnier that way.

In a flash, Elsa was behind the snowman. She took a moment to decide what she was going to say before she finally narrated in the goofiest voice she could muster, "Hi I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs." As she pronounced her line, Elsa made the Olaf's little stick arms wiggle around. Just hearing her own voice sound so funny made her giggle a little.

Elsa watched as Anna gasped delightedly right before she ran forward and gave the lopsided snowman a hug.

"I love you Olaf!" the tiny princess exclaimed—slurring the L's a little—and lingered in the hug for a long moment, but—unlike Elsa—Anna could get cold fairly easily so she had to let go soon.

After a short lived snowball fight, Elsa watched as her sister giggled violently and collapsed onto the snowy ground. She followed suit and gently lay down beside Anna.

As she began making snow angels, Elsa let the wonder of the moment sink in. Anna was so elated that no amount of her big sister's shushing could get her to quit laughing, and to be honest the older girl preferred it that way. The feeling of crisp snow ran up her body, even tingling the scalp behind her blond braid. It didn't really feel cold to her, in fact, it felt as though she had forgotten what the perfect temperature was until she sank into the frozen fluff.

Elsa hadn't been lying down for very long before Anna got up again and began sliding down a snowbank that was piled against a wall. Elsa joined her, deciding that she could sacrifice her moment of reflection to have more fun.

Before long, Anna got bored of the sliding game and instead decided to jump off of the highest snow peak she could find.

"Catch me!" she laughed, not concerned at all that she was in danger of falling onto the hard, icy ground.

Elsa, who _was_ concerned, created a snow pile just high enough to catch her sister. However, instead of climbing down as the older princess expected, Anna jumped again, this time higher. Elsa—trying not to get too nervous—caught Anna again and again, until the younger girl was far too high up and the older was far too panicked. The last time Anna jumped, Elsa knew that she was too late to catch her in the air, so instead she aimed at the ground with every bit of focus she had.

Anna landed safely in a huge snow drift, created only seconds before she hit the ground. Elsa watched anxiously as the force of the landing caused the little princess to sink almost a foot into the snow.

"Anna!" she yelled as she ran to check on her sister. Anna _had_ to be ok.

Elsa looked down into the snow pile Anna had fallen into, wondering how she could live with herself if her sister was hurt, when all of the sudden- "Tada!" Anna flew out of the snow, causing a small shower of the stuff, "Let's do it again!" She yelled.

"How about let's not," Elsa sighed, trying to hide how shaken she was behind a thin smile.

That was too close. She could feel a thin layer of ice cover her hands, her shoes were now crystallized; even the room seemed colder in response to her fear.

A second later and she would've hit Anna.

Elsa stood silently for a second, still stunned by what had happened, but before she could gain her bearings a tiny hand had shoved a snowball in her face.

"Bet you can't catch me!" Anna teased while slipping and sliding away from her older sister. Elsa laughed and played along; still thinking about the moment she almost _didn't_ catch her.

* * *

><p>As the years passed, Elsa and Anna were always there for each other. When Anna was bored, Elsa would play dolls with her, or even build a snowman. When Elsa was sick of learning the history of every European country on the map, Anna would without fail find a way to distract her, which—even though she protested— Elsa was very grateful for.<p>

Anna was always the best at making friends, partially due to some people's fear of Elsa's abilities. The younger princess could endear even the coldest of the palace staff, while her sister always seemed to have the power to put a freeze on conversation just like everything else. However, Elsa was still a master of manners and—to Anna— seemed infinitely graceful.

Anna on the other hand. . . well she wasn't.

She made it a habit to break an arm or leg almost every month, normally from climbing a tree or trying to steal a sweet roll from the kitchens ('I mean whose idea was it to keep iron skillets hanging from the ceiling, _anyone_ could knock themselves out!'). Also, no matter how hard her etiquette instructor tried to teach her to balance a book on her head ('while in _heels!' _She would argue) or _especially_ to "speak when spoken to", she just couldn't seem to get it right.

Despite all this, the sisters did have a few things in common, namely the love of chocolate, parties, each other, and their parents. When one of those was taken away their world started to crack around the edges.

It was just waiting to be shattered.

* * *

><p>"Elsa?" Anna called from the hallway outside of her sister's room. She and Elsa had gotten the news three days ago, and Elsa hadn't come out since.<p>

Every day that week Anna had done the same thing: she took a plate of food to her sister at meal times and then snuck away to her parent's room. Once she got into the cold, empty, quarters she would collapse into her mother's dresses—they still smelled of her perfume—or cry over her father's pictures until some worker, usually Kai, would pull her out of the room.

She could tell that they wanted to scold her for acting so un-princess like, but they just didn't have the heart. So she would spend the rest of the day wandering aimlessly around the palace.

Usually, she ended up in the art gallery, where she could find some peace and quiet. She liked to dream that she was inside the paintings, their worlds seemed much more lively than her own at the moment. Sometimes, though, she got a creepy, shiver-down-the-spine feeling that her parents' portrait was watching even from behind the black shroud that covered it.

Well, after three days of that, Anna decided that she couldn't stand to mope around anymore; she had to be there for Elsa, so there she was at her sister's door.

'After all,' she thought, 'I don't know how I would respond—how I _could_ respond—if I had to face the–the _stuff_ Elsa's facing right now, with the kingdom and all.'

So Anna knocked on the door. She could actually _feel_ the cold radiating out of the cracks and through the wood of the door. It was as though it wanted to escape, 'Maybe just like Elsa,' she thought.

"Please Elsa, I know you're in there," Anna called, she still wasn't quite sure where she was going with this but she knew she had to say _something_.

She could feel hot tears welling up in her eyes, but she was trying so hard not to let her voice quaver; she needed to be strong for both of them, "Listen, people are wondering where you've been. The staff is nervous, you're people need you. I-I need you."

Despite all her efforts her voice cracked on that last sentence.

"Elsa, at least we've got each other," the princess sighed no longer feeling very royal or even strong at all, "Do you wanna build a-"

And the door opened.

There stood Elsa, no longer looking like her usual regal self, it was obvious that she'd been crying for the entire three days she'd been in that room. Anna was especially shocked by the state of the room itself, it was completely frozen over, some of the wood furnishings had even begun to crack from the strain of the ice.

After only a moment of silence, Anna collapsed into her sister's arms. She didn't care that Elsa was so cold that it made her skin sting, Anna just couldn't go on alone any more.

Apparently, neither could Elsa. She didn't blubber around like Anna, who was—at the moment—wiping her nose on the sleeve of her dress. However, while she was holding her sister, trying her best to be comforting, she did let silent tears fall from her eyes.

They quickly froze on her cheeks.

* * *

><p>In a small dark room lit only by the glow of a fireplace and filled with only meager furnishings, a man sat thinking. His eyes were staring intently into the fire. They looked like they were blue flames themselves: alive, flickering, intimidating.<p>

The man looked quite out of place in the pathetic looking room. He was dressed in clothes fit for royalty, complete with a hooded cape, although on second look one would notice that the shirt was weather worn and his pants a bit tight fitting.

Another man quickly rapped on the door and walked in, a messenger. He was obviously put on edge by the presence of the dark figure. After all, he had been given the letter under very strange circumstances by a very strange man. . . but it was his job and the man _had_ paid well.

"Ahem. . . delivery," he announced, nervously tapping his fingers against his leg. He _really_ didn't like the looks of this place.

Although the messenger was sure that the cloaked man had heard him, he made no movement or sound to suggest that he was going to take the letter—a folded piece of parchment sealed with a black wax crest.

Now rather perturbed, as he had several other stops to make, the messenger sat the letter on a small side table, walked briskly out of the room, and closed the door. He couldn't have been happier to leave.

As soon as he heard the door squeak closed, the man by the fire stood up and grabbed the letter. It contained only a simple message, with no name or address given:

_The king and queen of Arrendale are dead. _

A wicked smile played over the man's features behind his hood.

"How _unfortunate,"_ he drawled out loud to himself, "and without a successor of age too."

This gave the man plenty of time to prepare. How lucky for him that Arrendale was so open about its royal affairs, he would never have known in time if it wasn't.

Once he finished thinking over the letter, the man walked to the fireplace and stuck his whole hand into the flames, letter and all. He let the paper burn and crumble to ashes before he removed his hand. Once removed, it was still on fire. He watched it burn—not even flinching.

In a few seconds the fire in his hand extinguished; the skin wasn't scorched, it hadn't even blistered.

* * *

><p>IMPORTANT AN: This will NOT be a "fire and ice" centric story, despite what you just read might lead you to believe. It's got way more to it than that. Besides, if it was, I would have said so in the summary.


	2. Chapter 2

First off, thank you to all those who gave reviews, follows, and favorites! You guys are awesome! Please don't forget to continue to give support; it really helps me stay excited about this story :)

Also, I just want to say that I'm a little nervous about adding a few OC's, but it was necessary for the plot I have in mind, so please give me some feedback on what you think.

Thanks again for reading!

I still don't own Frozen.

* * *

><p><em>Three Years Later<em>

* * *

><p>It was the day before the coronation and Elsa was already exhausted.<p>

All morning she had been busy talking with the cooks about the menu, making sure the decorations were perfectly in place, double checking the guest list, and rehearsing what she would say when she was being sworn in. If Elsa ever thought she had a free moment, she would almost immediately be reminded—usually by either Kai or herself— that she didn't.

Around mid-afternoon, she was sent to try on her new wardrobe—which, as she was told, had been meticulously planned out by at least five people for over a month. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of inviting Anna (after all, she loved this kind of thing right?).

Elsa just wanted to get the dress on and off, but Anna had other plans.

* * *

><p>"Oh, Elsa you look <em>beautiful<em>- I mean _wow!"_ Anna exclaimed, excitedly clasping her hands together once Elsa had finally squeezed into the dress.

After they had arrived at the fitting room, it had taken almost thirty minutes just to pull the outfit on, and that was _with_ Anna's help. Besides that, Elsa hated the smothered feeling that came from wearing all five layers of clothing etiquette demanded, and she _especially_ hated that infernal corset.

She had to admit though, the dress _was_ beautiful. As she peered into one of the several mirrors the fitting room was equipped with, she noticed that the teal and black bodice detailed intricately with purple and gold suited her complexion almost impossibly well. The corset successfully gave her the perfect waistline (at least it was good for _something_) which was balanced out by the way her petticoat exaggerated her hips.

Elsa wanted to say something in response to Anna's complement—maybe, '_Thanks, but can you help me get this off?' _However, too late she realized that Anna had strung her corset just a little _too_ tight. So, instead of whatever she was going to say, Elsa made a throaty gasping noise before she smiled and nodded vigorously whilst pointing to her waist.

She really couldn't wait to get out of this thing.

"Well aren't you going to say something?" Anna started; she apparently didn't get the message and was obviously concerned by her sister's silence. Elsa knew that in _her_ book saying nothing might as well be saying something was seriously wrong.

"I mean I understand if you're speechless, but wow I thought you would say _something_. Like a _thank you_ would be nice maybe, but its fine. You're fine." When Anna had finished, she sheepishly smiled and stared awkwardly at Elsa—waiting for a response.

Elsa really didn't want to hurt her sister's feelings so she managed to choke out a very strained, "Thanks Anna," before gasping for air.

To Elsa, Anna seemed satisfied enough with her response, so the soon-to-be-queen hurriedly began to unlace the back of her dress. Before she could even untie the bow, however, Anna yelped, "Wait!" effectively stopping her sister in her tracks.

As soon as the word escaped her lips, Anna clamped her hand to her mouth as if she couldn't believe she just said that out loud, "I-I mean you should try on your crown. . . if you want."

Elsa didn't even have time to say _uh-oh_ before Anna walked over to where the crown–a delicate golden comb that had been a family heirloom for who knows how long— lie on a purple velveteen pillow. The young princess snatched it off of the pillow, effectively engulfing the tiny thing in her freckled hand, but as she made her way back to place it on Elsa's head-

_Clink._

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief; the crown had fallen to the floor but survived unscathed.

"Whoopsie Daisies!" Anna laughed nervously; her eyes had grown to the size of an owl's when she let the crown slip.

'Ok, it's really more of a tiara,' Elsa amended in her mind, and she inwardly laughed at herself for being so scatterbrained—she must have been around Anna a bit too much lately.

Elsa reached to pick the tiara up, but before she could-

"No, no, I can get it!" Anna cut in, apparently trying to redeem herself. Elsa knew her sister was just trying to help, but at that point she _really _just wanted to get the tiara herself.

Instead, she yielded and perched on the edge of a particularly uncomfortable chair while Anna scampered to where the crown lay. With all the grace of a fish trying to walk on land, Anna swooped down—almost lost her balance—and, as delicately as she could, picked up the crown. Then the princess placed it gently on Elsa's head.

"See, it just completes the look." Anna beamed, obviously pleased.

Elsa wanted to groan from exasperation, but instead she focused on addressing the more pressing matter at hand. So, she stood up and took a deep breath before gasping, "Help me loosen the corset!"

"Oh- oh yeah, of course, I mean why wouldn't I?" Anna spluttered, finally understanding; she rushed to where Elsa was standing and fumbled around with the strings and ties on the dress before, at last, Elsa was free.

"Ahhh, that's better," she sighed with relief. She felt as though she'd been breathing through a straw for an hour; she had to make sure that she tightened her corset _herself_ tomorrow. . .

_Tomorrow. _

That's when it hit Elsa like a ton of bricks.

"So, coronation day's tomorrow. . ." she trailed off. Both of them had waited so long for this, but now that it was about to be upon them Elsa honestly didn't know how to feel—much less how to _explain_ how she felt.

"Are you excited?" Anna laughed. Elsa realized that was all it was to her—a day to be excited about.

"No, more like scared to death," she admitted, grimacing—so much depended on how tomorrow went! Normally fear like that would've sent her into an icy fit, but not with Anna around—Anna warmed her up.

"Yeah . . . but you know, I'm sure you'll do great. You always have before," the younger princess said decidedly, grinning.

Elsa smiled too; how could her sister be so sure? She was almost never sure of anything in this political game, but Anna made it seem so simple. Just like that, she had given Elsa the confidence that the crown princess couldn't even give herself.

"Thanks," Elsa said, because there was nothing else _to_ say. Each sister already understood what the other meant.

With that, Anna pulled Elsa in for a bear hug; it warmed her to the bone.

* * *

><p>As one could imagine, after all that had happened earlier that day, Elsa just wanted to lie down and take a nice long nap. In fact, she was on her way to her room—dragging along tiredly—to do just that when Kai walked up behind her.<p>

"Your majesty, a court session has been called, and I'm afraid your presence is required immediately." he said stiffly after taking a low bow.

It took Elsa a moment to process what the large man had just said, 'a course session?' she thought deliriously, 'But I completed my studies ages ago. . .'

"What? By who?" she asked sharply, shaking her head to clear her foggy brain.

There had not been a formal court meeting since the day the news arrived that her parents had died. She could vividly remember how she had stood there in front of a table filled with well dressed people who were seemingly unconcerned for how _she_ felt. She had been so confused; she was never needed at court before, why did they need her then? When they broke the news to her, the young princess flinched, but at the age of eighteen didn't even shed a tear until she reached the safety of her room.

Elsa had hoped that there would be no more court sessions until she was officially queen.

When she came back to the present, Elsa heard Kai answer, ". . . He wished to remain. . . anonymous." He was obviously choosing his words delicately.

Elsa wondered why the anonymity was needed; maybe whoever-it-was could be afraid that she'd kick them out. . . or more likely freeze them into oblivion. Either way the topic to be discussed at the gathering must be serious.

"Well, I suppose I'm on my way then." Elsa sighed. 'Just another item on my to-do list,' she told herself. In reality it was the _last_ thing she wanted to do.

As she walked through the palace—which was already beautifully adorned for the coronation ball—towards the throne room, where court was traditionally held, Elsa wondered what could possibly be so important that the meeting had to be called. They went for _three years_ without a court session—though that _was_ rather unprecedented—why did they have to have one on today of all days?

When she reached the huge and intricately carved wooden doors to the throne room, Elsa took a moment to prepare herself.

She listed some proper mannerisms for an almost-queen in her mind, 'shoulders straight, head up, don't get flustered,' she thought. She couldn't let herself look weak in front of the people she would soon be running her kingdom with. Although _she_ was going to be queen, some of these people held almost as much power as she would.

Elsa could feel ice coursing through her veins, freezing the floor around her solid. She forced herself to calm down enough that the effects of her powers subsided, then took a deep breath and opened the doors.

Immediately, Elsa could sense a change in the room's mood. Some people sat up straight in their chair, while others who were in the middle of a conversation fell silent; most importantly all eyes were on Elsa.

Although Elsa had been in front of crowds many times before, the nervous energy of it had never really gone away. So, instead of thinking too much about all the people staring holes into her, Elsa noticed how the pretty the sunlight was when it filtered through the room's high stain glass windows, or how it lit up the dust motes like little stars wherever it fell. Warm thoughts, certainly not about how her hands were literally freezing at the moment.

Once Elsa reached her place at the head of a long mahogany table, she took one last long breath and announced, "Court is called."

* * *

><p>Anna was running down the palace halls, reaching out to skim her fingers over every gold and purple banner she passed. She didn't really know exactly <em>why<em> she was running, but she figured it couldn't hurt right? After all, she was bored out of her brains, but at the same time she was just so _excited_.

What was that expression again? 'Hurry up and wait?' That was exactly how Anna felt. The whole palace was bustling with preparations for the coronation, but all Anna could do was wait around for it to come. She had even asked the chef and the official decorator—or was it royal designer—if she could help out with something—_anything_—but guess what they said?

No.

Which—okay—maybe she had a history of sneaking a little bite here and there in the kitchens, and _maybe_ she was known to fall down a stairwell and break a vase or something when she was hanging up some garland—yeah, something like that. But really, was that any reason to turn down a perfectly good offer to help? She didn't think so.

So anyway, that's how Anna found herself running around the halls like an insane person, but was it really _that_ insane because she was just _so_ _bored_.

Anna was just about to actually take off her shoes and start sliding around on the wooden floors in her socks, whether it was princess like or not, when she heard voices coming from the throne room.

'That's weird,' she thought, 'No one's been in that dusty old room for ages.' Anna almost thought _'Since Mother and Father died,'_ but it was just too soon and she wouldn't let herself. So, instead she crept—looking something like the world's most obvious ninja—over towards the entryway to the throne room.

Anna placed her ear against a wooden flower—part of a complex design—carved into one of the large doors. She could just make out the conversation going on inside, and she could tell it was pretty stinkin' important, so she listened on.

* * *

><p>"Yes your majesty," one particularly gaunt and pompous looking man started (was his name Leif?), it was clear to Elsa by the way the man held himself that he was acting as the spokesperson.<p>

"The matter we have been called here to discuss is one of particular urgency regarding Arendelle's well-being," Leif orated in near monotone, almost making Elsa fall asleep right where she was standing.

"Yes and that is?" Elsa queried, feeling ice tingling her fingers—for goodness sake, she couldn't address the problem if she didn't even know what it was.

"I, or we-" the man stammered nearly losing his composure,"— that is the court believes that you should find a. . . _suitor_ as soon as possible. For the good of the people of course. Arrendale needs a strong ally in this difficult time. And the best way to make those types of allies is through. . . marriage."

Elsa could feel the ice nearly consume her; it was as though her heart was fighting a battle against the frost for control of her body—and it was about to lose.

How dare they just _decide _that she should get _married_? Were they saying that she wasn't strong enough to take care of her own country? She could now understand why whoever proposed _this _wanted to remain unknown.

Elsa wanted to fight, she wanted to say no—that it was too soon for marriage— but most of all she wanted to freeze the whole room and everyone in it. However, instead of giving herself over to the cold she thought of all the people of Arrendale—her people—who needed protection; she thought of Anna. . .and she knew the court was right.

So, being the good crown princess that she was, Elsa swallowed the icy lump forming in her throat and said, "Of course," then left the room—shoulders straight, head up, never missing a step.

* * *

><p>"Eep!" Anna squeaked, wedged between the wall and the door that Elsa had just opened. Luckily for her, the door was large enough that she could completely disappear behind it, so that Elsa didn't even notice her sister as she brusquely walked past.<p>

Anna thought that Elsa probably would've missed her even if she was standing out in the open waving her hands around and shouting _'Hey You! Over Here!' _Because if _she'd_ been hit with news like that she'd be totally zonked.

Which brought her to the subject of what to _do_ with the information she learned. Anna knew what she _wanted_ to do; she wanted to go in there and punch that Lief guy square in the face, but she figured that it might make matters just the teeniest bit worse.

She couldn't very well just _tell_ Elsa what she'd heard unless she wanted a long lecture on why she shouldn't eavesdrop—which she didn't. So, Anna figured that she would just have to wait for Elsa to tell her herself.

She would have to practice some good surprised faces.

* * *

><p>In the back room of a pub with a particularly colorful reputation, a handsome young man sat waiting. Normally, he probably would have been pursuing the attractive server he noticed was paying him special attention, but tonight he was focused; tonight he was waiting for a client.<p>

He turned around in his chair, scanning the room for the man he was looking for, but there wasn't any sign of the blondie who had hired him. He was getting nervous—surely he hadn't been set up. When he turned back around, he felt goose bumps run up and down his arms.

His client was casually sitting at the same table he was—in the chair opposite himself.

"Let's skip the small talk and get down to business Markus," the man who had brought him there said in a hushed tone. Markus had to resist the urge to jump; it was as though the guy had appeared out of thin air, and if what he claimed was true he very well could've.

"Ok," Markus replied in what he thought was a fairly even tone. He had learned that it was better never to ask questions, and besides Mr.-Cloak-And-Dagger had already told him everything he needed to know in order to do his job.

"We move tomorrow night at eight, bring all the supplies you need; we could be away for a long time," the strange man announced cryptically.

"I'll get rolling then," Markus smirked—trying to ease some of the tension of the conversation. Did the other guy not notice that people were starting to stare or just not care? Surely he didn't notice, after all if anyone found out what they were planning to do. . . He didn't want to think about it.

"Oh, and Markus, at the risk of sounding cliché, try not to forget that the fate of the world is at stake," the man chuckled creepily.

Yeah, Markus couldn't forget about _that_.

Suddenly, a bar fight broke out behind the pair. Markus wheeled around to see what all the commotion was about. He couldn't be sure, but it looked like some guy who drank one too many had just ripped off another guy's mustache—nothing too interesting.

Markus turned back around to address his client, but he was gone—vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

'Well,' Markus thought darkly, 'looks like it's all settled then.'


	3. Chapter 3

Hey again guys! Sorry this chapter took so long; I just got really busy with life.

Happy Reading! Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review! It really does keep me going.

* * *

><p>It was a very important day in Arendelle; the whole town was alive preparing for Queen Elsa's coronation. As the sun rose and the sky turned from violet to a vibrant burning orange, little girls put on their best dresses, boys were forced into suits, and shopkeepers prepared their stores for the onslaught of visitors that was soon to come. In short, Arendelle was busier than ever. However, a certain princess was still lying in her bed—fast asleep.<p>

* * *

><p>"Anna?" the princess heard a hazy voice say; she was still drooling and her hair was still in a frizzy pile on top of her head. She couldn't tell who had said it and didn't really care either because she just wanted to go back to sleep.<p>

"Anna!" the voice said again, and there was a loud banging on the door that made her head throb.

_"Go away!"_ Anna groaned, before covering her head with her favorite pink silken pillow—trying to block out the noise. Within two seconds she was snoring again.

Anna vaguely heard several light footsteps before she felt the covers ripped away from the bed, but she was persistent and refused to get up. So, she curled up into a ball and continued to snore. That was when something horribly, awfully, _cold _blanketed Anna.

"Gah!" she yelped, jumping almost a foot into the air and scampering away from the bed. She looked back to see what or who the culprit was and, rubbing her eyes, saw a pile of sparkling white snow completely covering her bed.

For a moment, Anna was distracted by how the snow glistened in the morning sun—it was almost blinding. Then she realized snow indoors could only mean that either a really snowy run away polar bear somehow ended up on her bed and left without her noticing—unlikely— or. . .

_"Elsa!" _Anna complained loudly, drawing the word out; she wanted to slip back onto her bed and under the covers, but she guessed that a snow blanket might not be too cozy. So—since her armchair was all the way across the room—Anna fell backwards onto the floor. It was harder than she would have liked, but at least it wasn't frozen solid.

Really, what was Elsa thinking? She knew her sister wasn't a morning person; as a matter of fact, Anna had a long history of _attacking_ whatever unfortunate person came to wake her up. One day a servant had even come out with a black eye (which _totally_ wasn't her fault, they should've known whoever entered her room in the morning was fair game).

As she lie flat on her back, intent on not moving, Anna heard Elsa snickering nearby. She cracked an eye open and discovered that her sister was standing behind her head, fully dressed, smirking down at her with a mischievous glint in her crystal eyes.

"Ah, so you're finally up huh? What, is your own sister's coronation not even worth waking up for?" Elsa teased lightheartedly, cocking one eyebrow.

It took half a moment for Anna to catch her sister's hint before she leaped up—crazy mane practically bouncing up and down—and gasped, "It's coronation day!"

Immediately, Anna frantically ran to her dresser, hopping over some of the paraphernalia strewn across the floor along the way. When she reached her destination, she began to tame her hair, which smoothed out surprisingly quickly considering the mess it was before.

She was almost done putting her hair up when she realized that Elsa was still standing behind her, and seeing her made Anna remember the conversation—_the_ conversation—that she had overheard.

'Reindeer poop,' she thought; this could completely ruin the whole day!

She was sort of surprised that Elsa hadn't mentioned anything about it yet. Maybe she should help things along, because she was pretty sure that Elsa needed to talk _this_ one out.

"So it's coronation day right, heh, that sure came up fast," Anna said, trying to sound casual, but she sounded obvious even to herself.

"Yeah. . ." Elsa laughed with an unusually high pitched tone, and then gave what looked to Anna like a forced smile.

"Erm, so I know you've gotta be pretty stressed, and if you need to say anything to me feel free I-I mean just get it out. Yeah, just get it out—like, right out in the open."

"Thanks Anna, but I've got to go get dressed," Elsa said smoothly, and with that she turned and left the room. That was _not_ the response Anna had been hoping for.

'Good cover,' she thought, squinting her eyes before she collapsed onto her bed. Considering that the bed didn't feel like an ice-cube, Anna deduced that Elsa had taken the snow with her.

'Focus Anna,' she needed to think about what to do with all this suitor junk. Why hadn't Elsa just come out with the truth? She had never hidden anything like this from Anna before. Well, ok there was the time when she had eaten some of Anna's chocolate stash, but that was a little different.

Then the thought hit her that maybe, just maybe, Elsa really _wanted_ to go along with the whole suitor thing. Anna knew it wasn't really rational, but it occurred to her that maybe Elsa didn't want her to get in the way—she _was_ known for being just a tad awkward in situations that required being "proper" (but wasn't that really just a nicer way of being dishonest?).

The thought made her feel queasy, but there could be some truth to it. . .

Well, if Elsa wanted to get married to some stuffy prince she didn't even know, then who was Anna to get in the way? She wouldn't worry too much about it. Her sister could be all secretive if she wanted—she was about to be the queen after all. It was fine, really; it wasn't like it would ruin their whole friendship or anything. . .

No big deal, right?

* * *

><p>As soon as she pushed the door shut behind her, Elsa breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped that Anna hadn't noticed the ice creeping its way up her hands, or the way it had crystallized the doorknob on her way out.<p>

Elsa walked down the crowded corridor through rows of nameless workers towards the balcony, where she would have to greet all the arriving guests. Although she walked at a leisurely pace, her mind was going a million miles an hour.

She had wanted to tell Anna the news, but she just couldn't. Her sister was so excited about today; Elsa couldn't just say,_ 'Hey, I'm being forced into a marriage with a person I barely know—have a nice day!'_ She would have to break it to her after the coronation festivities were over.

Unfortunately, this decision meant that Elsa would have to deal with all the suitors who were sure to be coming to the coronation by herself.

'Fantastic,' she deadpanned in her mind.

Elsa wanted to stop time and think this through—could freezing time really be that much harder than freezing anything else? Instead, she paused when she reached a wooden side table next to the balcony doors and picked up the piece of parchment that contained the guest list.

Of course it wasn't a complete guest list; it would take a whole book to list off the name of _every_ person who would attend the coronation. Instead, it held the names of those who were to be honored by the "pleasure of her company".

The more Elsa looked at it, the more she felt ice sting her insides—frost shot up the wall behind her. Over half the people on the list were eligible young princes, dukes, or lords. She had expected a few of course, but the court had gone too far this time. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it; she couldn't very well fire the whole council.

Elsa could feel any chance she had of enjoying the day slip away. She almost wished she had told Anna—she could use a little optimism.

Just when Elsa was ready to tear the guest list into a million pieces, throw them into the air, and freeze them, Kai appeared behind her. Instantly, she was back behind her mask of indifference, but Kai could apparently sense something was off.

"Everything alright your majesty?" he questioned cocking his head; Kai was not one to make a scene.

"Fine Kai," Elsa replied nonchalantly, but she was pretty far past fine at that point.

"Very well, it's nearly time for your entrance; if you would give the order for the gates to be officially opened to visitors then we can begin."

"Of course."

Elsa breathed in and out, 'Head up, shoulders back, don't get flustered—and especially don't get angry,' she thought.

So, with her chin held high and her mask firmly in place, Elsa ordered the guards to open up the gates. Then she stepped out onto the balcony.

* * *

><p>Anna didn't really know where she was heading—anyplace where she could get away from her sister for a while would do.<p>

She didn't _want_ to be mad, really, but Elsa couldn't expect to keep something this _big_ from her! Anna was just so frustrated, and she knew it was probably stupid. So, instead of facing Elsa—who would probably realize something was wrong and get all upset, and _nobody_ wanted to see _her_ upset—Anna decided just to get away for a little while.

So, that's why she found herself running out the palace door and into the huge crowd of people who were gathered in the castle courtyard, no doubt to get a fleeting glimpse of _her_.

The sheer amount of people in the area made Anna feel free, just as it always had—in crowds she could be anyone she wanted, no one had to know she was a princess. Still, she wanted to be a little farther removed from the sister situation than she was there, so she pushed her way through the mob and out of the castle gates.

Why did the day have to be so beautiful? It made it kind of hard for Anna to stay angry. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, the sun reflected brightly off the fjord, and the harbor was bustling with incoming ships. It allowed her to—at least momentarily—forget her problem.

As she was wandering aimlessly around the harbor, Anna made it a point to inspect every ship she passed—it helped keep her mind occupied. There was a huge one that was still shiny and new, one with a particularly gruesome figurehead of—was that a crab with its head cut off?— there was a smaller vessel that was pure black, and even a ship with-

"Wha-woah!" Anna tripped over a protruding oar and fell backwards into a row-boat.

"That was a close one," she thought out loud, however, she didn't even have time to breathe a sigh of relief before she heard the bottom of the boat scraping the dock—slipping into the harbor.

"Oh no, no, _no_- huh?" Anna was about to fall into the water with the boat (and without any oars) when she felt it jerk to a halt. She looked from side to side, she was pretty sure boats floating _above_ the water weren't normal. Then she looked up; standing over her was a beautiful horse with a light caramel mane and a distinct black stripe running down its back. It was pinning the boat onto the dock using one hoof, and beside it was, _oh wow_.

He was tall and handsome and his auburn hair was gleaming in the sunlight—yes actual _gleaming_ was going on. Anna couldn't help herself, it was like she _had_ to stare at his face—so she did, and inadvertently smiled while she was at it.

"Oh no! Are you hurt? Do you need some help?" the dashing rider asked, concern written all over his face; Anna noticed how his handsome brow furrowed.

"Yeah," Anna sighed, still dazed, "I-I mean help would be _great_. And no, I'm not hurt."

"Are you sure?" He hopped into the boat and offered his hand.

"Yeah, I just wasn't looking where I was going, heh." Now that he was closer, Anna realized that his eyes were some dreamy mix of green and blue and grey—was there even a name for that?

"Thank goodness you're alright." He pulled her to her feet—his hands were so strong and gentle. He bowed, "I'm Prince Hans of the Southern Isles."

"Princess Anna of Arendelle," she announced and curtsied, for once glad that etiquette gave her something specific to say because inside she was speechless.

"Princess?. . . Oh, my lady." Hans bowed even lower and his horse followed suit—wait how do you even teach a horse to _bow?_

Anna realized too late that when the horse bowed it moved its hoof which meant. . .The boat tipped. Hans toppled and fell on top of Anna.

She smiled sheepishly, the closeness getting to her, "Hi—again." Just then, Hans's horse swiftly stomped his hoof back down onto the boat, which resulted in the boat tipping again. This time it was Anna's turn to fall onto Hans.

"This is awkward," she laughed nervously, but didn't want to offend Hans so she blurted, "Not _you're_ awkward, but just because _we're_— you're gorgeous. Wait what?" Anna had never wished so badly that she could take her foot out of her mouth—and she wished that a _lot_.

Hans abruptly stood up—was it wrong that Anna wished he hadn't?—and helped her up too, "I'd like to formally apologize for falling on top of the Princess of Arendelle. . .and for every moment after," He said, smiling at the ground.

"No-no it's okay because I'm not _that_ princess. I mean if you had done that to Elsa, Yikes. Like, she probably would've accidentally skewered you or something. Because-" Anna suddenly remembered how much she _didn't_ want to talk about Elsa so she said, "Hello," to the horse and patted its head. Then, having successfully (in her mind) changed the subject, continued, "But, lucky for you it's just me."

"_Just_ you?" Hans asked, smiling and raising his eyebrows; Anna smiled back, locking eyes with him.

Soon, the brassy sound of bells rang through the air. At first Anna didn't notice—wow that man was _gorgeous_—but then she realized what was going on.

"The bells—the coronation. . . Well, I better go. I-I have to go. . . Bye!" She waved as she turned on her heels and ran off towards the castle grounds.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Hans and his horse waving back. . . And Hans falling into the fjord after his horse removed its hoof from the boat.

Whoops.

* * *

><p>Hans <em>really<em> hoped that the princess had seen that, because taking a dip in the fjord was not exactly what he would call pleasant. If she had, though, it would help him keep up the appearance of being the awkward, oh-you're-so-cute kind of prince he was trying to look like.

His plan had originally been to try and woo Elsa, but he soon realized that so many other suitors—with higher position—were coming along that it might be wise to go for someone who held little less attention. Besides, the queen could always have an unfortunate accident, what with that ice power and all.

In the end, it wouldn't matter how or through whom he attained the throne of Arendelle, just as long as he got there. It might actually be easier than he thought, Anna seemed easy enough to manipulate; if he was lucky he wouldn't even have to kill her.

'Then again,' Hans thought, 'I never did have very good luck.'

* * *

><p>Elsa was standing beside Anna at the front of a small chapel. The scene was picture perfect; light filtered through the windows, landing on the tiara she would soon put on. Foreign dignitaries—some whom Elsa knew from trade partnerships or alliances and some she didn't know at all—filled the room.<p>

Elsa couldn't help but notice the large number of potential suitors who were in the room—one or two had even introduced themselves earlier—but for the moment she felt safe from them. The ball would be when the real problems began.

What was she going to do? The court was expecting her to find a long term love interest—probably even an eventual spouse—_tonight_. They had made that much clear through their ridiculous guest list. Come to think of it, this whole situation had a ridiculous air about it. Didn't they know that these things took _time_? She wished that she could just tell them no, that she _wouldn't_ make a lifelong decision in one night, but deep down she knew that they had a point. Arendelle needed a strong ally after her parents' death. Anyways, she wouldn't be the first queen to marry for politics, right? Elsa tried to be rational, but she felt cold all over. She felt like she was trapped.

Luckily, before she froze the whole room over thinking about her predicament, the bishop called for Elsa to be inaugurated. Although she felt a few butterflies flutter through her gut, she wasn't as nervous about this part as she had thought she would be.

Elsa daintily took off her gloves and walked slowly to the alter. Then, she picked up the golden scepter and orb before waiting for the bishop to finish reciting something in Old Norse—more tradition. After he was done with the gibberish, he called, "Queen Elsa of Arendelle!" Elsa bowed her head slightly as the crown was placed delicately upon it.

Everyone in the room echoed, some more enthusiastically than others, "Queen Elsa of Arendelle!"

That was it; she was queen. She placed the scepter and orb back onto the green velvet pillow.

Elsa looked over to smile at Anna, but to her surprise her little sister didn't seem all that excited—certainly not as excited as she had been earlier that morning. She wasn't even wearing her usual cheery grin, just staring off into the distance. The new queen pondered this for a moment before deciding that she probably shouldn't have woken her sister up so early—apparently she _really_ needed that extra hour—besides, there were far more important things to worry about.

For instance, the young man that approached Elsa as soon as she walked into the crowd to greet the guests. Oh, she knew his name from earlier—what was it?— Fillip, that was it, Fillip Prince of Spain. Elsa decided that she had no choice but to greet Fillip—she wanted to make allies not enemies.

As soon as he approached, Fillip reached for Elsa's hand. "May I?" he asked. Elsa gave a small nod in response, and the prince planted a quick kiss across her gloved fingers.

"I must say I'm thrilled to be here, your country is as beautiful as I've heard—as is its queen."

"Thank you," Elsa said politely, but she was sick of this guy already. He was handsome, gentlemanly, and extremely boring.

She stood in place a while longer and listened to Fillip ramble on about how 'lovely the palace was' before she excused herself and moved on to the next guest in the line that had now formed in front of her—thankfully this time it was a woman.

This could take a while.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello guys! Thanks again for reading and giving your support! The pace should start to pick up pretty fast from here, so I hope you enjoy some more action.

Please remember to favorite, follow, and review! It never fails to bring a smile to my face, and it ensures that I will stay on track to finish this story line. Also, don't forget that constructive criticism is welcome, just so long as it is in fact _constructive_.

Oh yeah, I still don't own Frozen.

* * *

><p>The coronation ball was as glimmering and beautiful a party as Arendelle had ever seen. Its very essence was the sound of lively waltz music, the look of a thousand colorful garbs shimmering in the chandelier light, and the smell of chocolate. Anna just couldn't get enough.<p>

As she slipped through the side door and onto the crowded dance floor, where many people were already enjoying themselves, Anna once again felt the freedom from any expectations that she had as a princess. In a room this packed with people, no one would even notice her.

Not only that, but Anna's senses were overwhelmed with everything going on in the area so that it all became a blur of dancing and laughter and, of course, lots of food—_especially_ chocolate.

The only thing that put a damper on Anna's mood was seeing Elsa at the front of the room, already being attacked by a whole line—yeah, a _line _— of young men.

'Or maybe,' the little voice in her head told her, 'she isn't being attacked, maybe she _likes_ it.'

'Oh, be quiet,' Anna mind replied—but a part of her agreed with her little voice, and that part kept nagging at her- demanding to be heard.

Still, she was determined to have a good time; after all, this would be the biggest party of the year—maybe even the biggest party she would ever attend. To stop herself from focusing on the negative, she walked brusquely through the crowds, away from Elsa.

As she walked, she again took notice of how extravagant the whole scene was. The room was covered with bright purple and green banners which were emblazoned with the golden flower of Arendelle. Anna had always loved her country's flag; instead of being all boring and official, it represented the spirit of Arendelle- beauty, growth, and liveliness.

In contrast to the colorful banners, the room was also decorated with intricate ice sculptures of all different shapes and sizes, ranging from tiny snowflakes dangling below the ceiling to life sized people. They, of course, were made by—well never mind, she wasn't going to think about _that_.

After a while of wandering around, staring wide eyed at anything and everything in the magnificent room, Anna noticed something particularly amusing. A short—bordering on dainty—older man dressed all in finery was attempting to get Elsa to dance with him.

Anna paused for a moment to watch, letting people stream past her like a river flowing past a small rock—she was still upset at Elsa, but she just couldn't pass up something _that_ funny.

The man, who was at least a foot shorter than Elsa, practically dragged the queen onto the dance floor. Then he began to careen in circles around her while she just stood there making a halfhearted attempt to dance along. Anna couldn't help but giggle; it looked like he was doing some sort of crazy ritual.

Once she was done watching the unusual sight, Anna decided to move on to the next non-sister related activity—though she _was_ starting to miss Elsa a little—but before she took the first step, she felt someone bump her from behind—knocking her off balance.

Anna flinched, preparing for the fall that she was sure would come next, but instead she felt a larger hand grasp hers and pull her back up to safety.

She opened her eyes to see what divine intervention had stopped her from making a complete fool of herself, and saw a pair of light-emerald eyes shining back down at her, "Hans?" Although she was relieved that she hadn't fallen on her face, Anna _really_ didn't want Hans to see her like this . . . again.

"Good thing I caught you. You know, we really need to stop bumping into each other like this," he said with a broad grin—Anna had to force herself not to stare.

"Yeah, I guess so, huh?" she laughed sheepishly, rubbing her neck; she felt herself loosening up just from being around him—how did he do that?

"May I?" he asked, giving a small bow.

Anna's mind was singing a chorus of 'yes, yes, yes!' but she just giggled, "You may," and gave an overdone curtsy—she hoped she was pulling off the whole graceful thing.

Before she knew it, Hans was gently holding her in his arms and they were dancing. Anna felt an invigoration that she hadn't known since she and Elsa built their first snowman in the very same room so long ago.

There was no doubt about it, Hans was incredible dance partner. All the princess had to do was glide along, responding to his firm lead. It was as if they were the only two people in the world—no more duties, no more sneaky sisters with arranged marriages.

Anna began to think that the feeling must be true love.

* * *

><p>Elsa had just escaped the Duke of Weselton—he had made <em>certain<em> that she knew his title—when she returned to her post at the head of the room. She knew that there wouldn't be much time before the next dance partner came along, but she needed to recover from- well, _whatever_ it was that just happened.

All evening, she had been bombarded by guests. A few, like the Duke of Weselton, weren't interested in "winning her heart" (or at least she _seriously_ hoped he wasn't), but most—as she had suspected—were. So, she went along with it, smiling and nodding at everything they had to say—most of them just gabbed about themselves or made small talk about completely pointless things.

Elsa glanced at the antique grandfather clock positioned in the corner of the room and sighed quietly; the ball wasn't even half over. There had to be at least _one_ somewhat interesting suitor in the room.

The queen tiredly went to find a refreshment—at least she could enjoy the food. She grabbed a plate and put a sparse amount of hors d'oeuvres and a single piece of chocolate on it. She had wanted to fill the whole thing up with chocolate, but knew that probably wasn't the best idea—after all she was supposed to be the sophisticated queen of Arendelle.

After she had gotten a snack, Elsa dipped a crystal ladle into a punch bowl filled with a blue drink of some sort—_she_ had gotten no say in the menu choices for the night—but before she could actually get any-

"Your highness, I believe the queen at the very least deserves to have her punch served to her," a tenor voice laughed, carrying a humorous but not quite condescending tone.

Elsa looked to see who had spoken and found a tall dark and handsome figure smirking down at her, reaching for the ladle—she had gotten just about enough of tall handsome figures for the night.

Still, she said, "Of course," and smiled as kindly as she could muster. The young man went on to pour them both a drink, his dark eyes glinting.

"I'm afraid I don't know your name," she added, trying to stick to protocol. This was why she had always taken to etiquette—it gave her something proper to say when she really didn't want to make conversation.

"Prince Aleksander of Lavonshire, and you are the lovely Queen Elsa of Arendelle," he said, bowing slightly before handing Elsa her drink. She had heard of the country, but it must have been very small because she knew almost nothing about it; she guessed that it would still be best to stay on this prince's good side.

"Yes, would you care to come sit down?" Elsa asked, momentarily ignoring the food even though she could hear her stomach complain.

"That would be great." He gave her a polite smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. They were always the same—shadowy like their darkness was hiding a secret.

If he was anything like every other politician Elsa knew, then they probably were.

* * *

><p>Hans sat on the edge of a rocky overhang with Anna; moonlight streamed through the waterfall that poured from above their heads, casting a silver glow on both of their faces. The night was warm and beautiful, perfect for romance—even if it <em>was<em> completely fabricated.

He had been right; Anna's heart could be played like a drum given the right musician. She really had no chance; after the line about the twelve older brothers he could tell she was hooked. Then again, that might have been the most convincing story he had ever told to anyone-it was, after all, mostly true.

She was so naive and innocent he almost felt bad about what he was doing—almost.

Now came his big move, he had complete confidence that Anna would accept. Elsa, on the other hand might be a little harder to convince—she may not be so willing to give her sister away to a complete stranger.

"Can I just say something– crazy?" the prince asked kneeling; he was also carefully monitoring his tone and wording—he couldn't get sloppy, he was too close for that, "Will you marry me?"

"Can I say something even crazier?" Anna asked ecstatically, and this time he really could tell what she was going to say next, "Yes!"

Perfect.

* * *

><p>On the walk back to the palace, Anna's heart skipped along; she was flying, just as high as the mountain peaks she could see framing the palace. Hans was the wind under her wings—wow she was feeling poetic, but maybe that was what true love did to you.<p>

All she had to do was tell Elsa the good news; she could barely remember why she was mad in the first place. All the negativity she had felt before was lost in the euphoria of the proposal.

Anna compulsively reached out for Hans's hand, and now she didn't have to feel guilty for squeezing just a little too tight or staring just a little too long because now they were _engaged_. Or at least they would be as soon as Elsa gave her consent, but really why _wouldn't_ she.

When they reached the palace, Anna and Hans locked eyes before entering the palace doors and journeying excitedly to the ballroom—laughing and teasing each other the whole way.

A thousand things ran through Anna's mind, like how she could imagine herself walking these halls with him everyday or how excited Elsa would be when she heard the news.

She couldn't wait to see to look on her sister's face!

When she and Hans entered the ballroom, hands still locked, Anna skimmed the crowd looking for any sign of Elsa. When she didn't see any she huffed, and Hans—being as considerate as he was—asked, "Should we just wait until tomorrow, I mean it could be a little overwhelming for her with everything else going on."

Anna thought about this for a moment, but soon she decided, "No, Elsa's my sister, she'll definitely want to know tonight." She also gave Hans a playful nudge, only it may have been a little harder than she intended.

"Whatever you say." Hans chuckled, nudging back, but not as hard as she had.

So, Anna continued to search the room for the queen—should it really be that hard? She was _supposed_ to be the center of attention. Finally she spotted Elsa sitting with some guy by the far wall; Anna abruptly started pushing her way through the crowd, dragging Hans behind her.

When they had reached Elsa, Anna tapped her shoulder, and Hans straightened his posture, as if suddenly remembering that he was standing beside a queen.

"Ahem, Elsa I-I mean Queen Elsa," she added since her sister was with a guest, "Uh, I would like to introduce Prince Hans of the Southern Isles." She gestured rather dramatically to Hans.

He gave a gentlemanly bow, but Elsa only returned it with a small nod—Anna hadn't really expected much more, Elsa never had been one to open up to strangers.

"We would like-" Anna started, but Hans cut in with-

"Your blessing-"

"On-"

"Our marriage!" the couple finished in unison, giggling; Anna lay her head on Han's shoulder. She thought that was pretty impressive, if she did say so herself.

Suddenly Anna noticed that whatever handsome—not as handsome as Hans—man was sitting by Elsa looked pretty uncomfortable. Oh well, too late. . .Then the princess looked over at Elsa's reaction and saw that she was looking about ten times _more_ uncomfortable as the other dude.

"Marriage?" she queried, but Anna couldn't figure out why her tone was so disbelieving—wasn't she happy for them?

"_Yes_!" Anna squealed, sure that once it sunk in Elsa would be as excited as she was.

"I'm sorry, I think I must be confused," the queen decided, shaking her head. What was there to be confused about? It seemed pretty simple to Anna, even if it was a little surprising. The princess decided to explain it a little bit further to her sister.

"Well, we haven't worked out _all_ the details ourselves- we'll need a few days to prepare the ceremony. Of course we'll have soup, roast, and ice cream, and then—wait, should we live here?"

"Here?" Elsa asked, her voice rising—she didn't seem any less confused to Anna.

"Absolutely!" Hans responded, eyes all lit up.

"Anna-" Elsa started, but then Anna remembered that-

"Ooh! We can have all twelve of your brothers come stay with us!"

"_What?! _No, no, no, no, no."

"I'm sure we have the room—well, maybe some of them can-"

"Wait, slow down—no one's brothers are staying here, and you are _not_ getting _married!_" Elsa interrupted, but that didn't make any sense; maybe Anna had heard her wrong because she would never. . .

"Wait, what?" Anna felt like there had to be a mistake, Elsa must have misunderstood again.

"May I talk to you please—alone?"

Anna was shocked; she looked over at Han's who looked equally concerned. "No, whatever you have to say, you- you can say it to both of us," she said, sure about that if nothing else. She also briefly noted that the guy next to Elsa looked like he wanted to—no, focus Anna.

"Fine, you can't marry a man you just met." Elsa said, a steely look in her eyes. Oh no, she wouldn't- after Anna had just spent all day worrying about-

"You mean like _you're_ planning too? Because at least with me it's _true_ love!"

"What are you talking about?" Elsa looked genuinely confused, but Anna knew that she was always pretty good at keeping up appearances.

"You really thought I wouldn't find out about all this suitor garbage? Do you really think I'm _that_ stupid?"

"No, I- wait how did you-"

"You know, I don't even want to hear it. Hans and I are in _love_, something you apparently know nothing about. Enjoy the coronation your _highness_." Anna stormed out of the room with Hans in tow; she didn't want to think about how badly those words would hurt, because she was _not_ going to apologize this time.

This time she was _exactly_ right.

* * *

><p>Elsa's chair was completely covered in ice, and the ice was spreading over the ground and up the wall like some sort of infection.<p>

'Get it under control.' she forced herself to stay calm, forced her emotions back into their icy prison before too many people started to stare—as if they weren't already. Though her powers were no secret, it wouldn't look good for her to completely let loose in front of a crowd.

After a moment, only her hands and feet were frozen, but the ice swirled about in her soul.

How could Anna just go off and do the one thing Elsa would've given _anything_ to avoid? How could she possibly _want_ to get married to someone she barely knew, and even more pressing was how she could think that _Elsa _wanted to.

Besides all that, Elsa had avoided telling her sister the news for the sole purpose of making her _happy_, and Anna had accused her of being incapable of love. Elsa thought that Anna of all people would know better.

Suddenly she was exhausted, she downed her drink in a few large gulps, no longer caring that she should be taking lady-like sips—she honestly hoped there was something stronger in the punch than just juice.

After a short moment of pure exasperation, Elsa was reminded that Aleksander was still there when he cleared his throat and said, "My lady, if you would, can I speak to you for a moment—outside?" Couldn't he tell that she had something more important to worry about?

She wanted to say that he most certainly could not, as a matter of fact she wanted to scream that if it wasn't for pompous little jerks like him, her sister wouldn't have blown up in her face—but then that wasn't really true was it?

In the end, Elsa decided not to make a bigger scene and just go along with the prince; she figured that if anything happened she could take care of herself.

She got up—posture straight but fragile and weak—and followed the prince into the castle foyer. Everything was becoming blurry, and she wasn't quite sure where the floor began and the frosted trail that followed her ended. All she could think was, 'No, Anna, no.'

Once they had stopped at the palace door, Elsa gathered the strength to ask, "So now that we're here, what exactly is so important that you couldn't say it in the ballroom?"

Just those words drained Elsa of all the strength she had left—she didn't even notice that her hands were no longer icy, and neither was she herself.

But she _was_ tired, so tired.

Aleksander looked at her for a brief moment, his face wrought with the importance of whatever he was about to say, but then the moment was over and his expression changed to a smirk.

"Good night your highness," he breathed.

His dark eyes were suddenly all that Elsa could see; and even their darkness was consuming her.

A streak of blond that wasn't there before, and then nothing.

Everything was darkness.

* * *

><p>It felt good for him to be back to his usual self; changing forms for so long was exhausting.<p>

He stuck his head out the door—hair almost white in the moonlight—and motioned for Markus to come help him out.

"It worked," he announced quietly to the broad man walking through the doorway.

"Told you it was foolproof," Markus replied, just a little too loudly for someone who had just helped drug the queen on her coronation night. Sometimes he wondered if hiring him was such a good choice, but Markus did come with a particularly rare skillset . . .

"Quit gloating and help me get her in the cart." There was no time for small talk, he wasn't sure there was any time at all.

"How exactly do you plan to keep her from—oh, I dunno—_killing_ both of us?" Markus whispered, now helping his partner lift the queen into the air, "I mean sure, that sedative potion will knock her powers out for as long as she's asleep, but what's to stop her from freezing us as soon as she wakes up?"

"I'm banking on her taking our side when we tell her the truth—the whole truth—until then we'll just have to bluff. Now stop talking."

When they reached the small wooden cart which was hooked up to an old grey mare, the kidnappers plopped the queen into the hay inside the cart-bed. Then, they quickly covered her with old sacks that would've been used to carry grain or seed before adding more hay to make sure no sign of their contraband was seen.

"Here goes nothing," Markus sighed and took the reins.

The pair left the castle gates unattested by anyone; in the darkness they looked like a couple of stable hands.

* * *

><p>Anna had stormed all the way to the castle balcony with Hans. She had been furious—could Elsa really expect to run her life like that, even deciding who she could or couldn't marry? It was <em>Anna's <em>decision.

However now, after venting to Hans for nearly a full hour, the heat of the anger was fading into a dull unpleasant sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. The tears from only a few minutes ago were still sticking to her cheeks.

She knew what she had to do, Hans had agreed, but that didn't make her hate it any less

"Are you sure that I should try to talk it out? After all, in the past Elsa hasn't exactly been very good at the whole "opening up" thing. Really, we could just leave Arendelle. . . "Frankly Anna wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that plan, but if it meant being with Hans-

"I'm positive, you won't be happy if you aren't here with Elsa." The prince stated softly; he was so much better at figuring out these kinds of things than she was.

"You're right, but—will you come with me? Just to escort me there?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

They shared an encouraging smile before walking downstairs and into the ballroom. Anna was nervous, but she made herself focus on taking steady footsteps. 'Left foot, right foot.'

Anna walked through the still crowded room, looking for her sister. This time it seemed harder to avoid the stares of the guests; this time everyone knew that she was the princess who had just had a fight with the queen—her own sister.

Anna _really_ wanted to disappear. She almost wished she could become like one of those beautiful ice figures that Elsa had made-at least then she wouldn't have to go through all the pain and embarrassment she felt at that moment.

After a while the princess began to get a bit nervous—where _was_ Elsa? Just as she was thinking this, Kai appeared out of the crowd.

"Is the queen alright my lady?" he inquired, voice a little more tense than usual, "Some of the guests are getting a bit skittish to meet her—"

"What?" Anna replied; really, what was he talking about? Anyone could see Elsa if they wanted, unless. . .

"You mean she's not with you?" Kai questioned, a deep frown easing its way onto his face.

"Wha- no, of course not. I haven't seen her for at least an hour." Anna exchanged a troubled look with Hans. She thought that she might know what Kai was getting at, but that was _impossible_.

"Oh dear." That was all Kai said, but the implications were huge. The queen, Elsa, Anna's sister_,_ was _missing_. Queens don't just go missing in the middle of their coronation ball.

No, this couldn't be happening; there was no way that this could happen, no _way. _Anna racked her brain for something—_anything_— that could rationalize this . . . and she found a convenient answer.

That guy had been with her, or more accurately _she_ had been with that guy. They were probably together right now- her telling him some sob story about her sister who just couldn't understand how _complicated_ things were for a queen. Anna just couldn't stand it.

She let herself become angry, because the alternative—well, a small part in the back of Anna's mind was thinking, 'No, no, _no_, not Elsa.' So instead she chose to be angry, not ready to come to terms with the other option.

"Don't worry about it Kai. I think I know where she is."


	5. Chapter 5

Hi again, I hope you all have been enjoying the story, and thank you to everyone who has been supporting it! Sorry this update is so late; I've actually had it done for a while but my computers have been acting up.

This chapter is really a turning point for the whole fanfic, so please tell me what you think! I always love getting feedback, so don't forget to give fav's, follows, and reviews!

I don't own Frozen or any of its characters.

Enjoy :)

* * *

><p>Something bright emerged from the darkness.<p>

There was also the smell of smoke and the chill of the wind on her skin, as well as an awful sour taste in the back of her mouth. It all blurred together and made no sense at first; it was as though her mind had been in a dark cave for days and now that it was going outside again everything was too loud and bright and—_overwhelming_.

Elsa stirred, flipping off of her stomach and onto her side so that she had a clearer line of sight, before squinting to focus on the bright thing flickering in the corner of her vision—it was a small fire. The light was inviting next to the dark sky, and the confused young woman watched as bits of glowing ash floated up into the sea of black.

Paying attention to small things calmed her nerves—it was an old habit, but for some reason she couldn't recall where it came from, or when she had used it before. It was as though her memories were floating around like the glowing embers—unattached and unconnected.

She heard hushed whispering coming from the fire's direction and squinted harder to find that there were two figures standing over it. Even in the flame's light it was impossible to tell anything about them except for that one had a stocky build while the other was a bit taller and thin.

Where was she? Everything felt distant and it was hard to focus on anything for very long—she could barely tell if what she was seeing was real or some sort of dreamscape.

She noticed that there was a slight throb on the back of her head, so she reached back to gingerly brush her fingertips over the source of the warm stinging sensation. As soon as she did so, she felt a sharp flash of pain—well, at least she knew it wasn't a dream.

She tried to get up, but her legs failed her and all she managed to do was fall back onto the ground with a muffled _thud. _She hadn't even realized how stiff and sore her whole body was until then.

A voice cut through the crisp air, presumably in response to her fall, "So you're up."

It was a voice Elsa knew, but couldn't quite place. She looked up and found that it was the taller of the two figures who had spoken, and he was turning towards her; she couldn't make out his face in the dim light.

"Well, I think we had better go ahead and tell you everything you need to know, no time for introductions just yet." What an unusual tone he had—soft but potent, like he didn't need to talk loudly to be listened to.

Elsa moved into a sitting position—she still didn't trust her legs enough to stand up yet. There was something strange and dangerous about the whole situation, but her brain wasn't quite connecting the dots.

She shook her head, and her up-do fell down into a scraggly braid—why was there straw in her hair? As a matter of fact, when she looked herself up and down she found that her whole dress was covered with grime and hay. There had to be something she was forgetting.

"Wh-Where am I?" the words formed in Elsa's mouth without her consent, and she immediately wanted to take them back. The last thing she wanted was to look weak in front of—whoever it was that she was with.

"Hmm, a reasonable question, but one I can't answer just yet," the taller one answered—Elsa assumed that he must be the spokesperson for the pair, "Before you go asking anymore questions, listen to what I have to say. It's in both you and your sister's best interest that you do."

_Sister_.

The word brought everything rushing back in a storm of conversation snippets, images, and emotions: the coronation, apprehension, Anna, protection, the fight, anger, confusion, everything—cold. Suddenly Elsa was aware of exactly who she must be with, Prince Aleksander . . . Except for that he wasn't the same; he was too thin, and the way he spoke wasn't quite right.

_Sister_.

Where was Anna? What had they done with her? _"It is in both you and your sister's best interest that you do." _What exactly did that mean?

Elsa had been so upset that she let her guard down—this was her fault. Now it didn't matter how awful it was that she was being forced into a marriage or that Anna was rushing into one—now all that mattered was that she was kidnapped. She had to escape—didn't she?

Ice coated the ground, edging it's was over to the fire, and flurries began to whip around in a whirlwind around Elsa, but she pushed it all away—they might have Anna.

The queen concentrated on controlling her power, until the only evidence that remained of it was a was slight tingling cold in her fingers and toes along with the shaky hope that she could control it. She clung to the hope that she could keep herself from killing these men who kidnapped her and maybe her sister too. She had to for Anna's sake.

Deep down she wondered if it was really for her own selfish reasons. Could she live with herself knowing that she had killed two men—two _people_?

Even in the darkness Elsa saw Aleksander—or whoever he _really_ was—smile.

* * *

><p>Markus had watched nervously as the frost crept over to the campfire— freezing everything in its wake solid—and then as it stopped abruptly, only a foot away from where he was standing.<p>

He squeezed one of the talismans hanging about his neck and said a silent prayer of thanks—the bluff worked. He knew full and well what would've happened if it hadn't; the Druids had long spoken of the power elementals held.

If what he heard was true, then the queen could've frozen the whole country with a wave of her hand. It was terrifying to think about what she could've done to a couple of men out in the mountains where no one would ever find the bodies. . .

'Stop thinking like that Markus.'

Everything was fine, all he had to do was sit back and listen to what blondie had to say—and hope that Elsa believed every word. She _had_ to listen, the stakes were too high and the time too scarce for anything else.

Even with all the other worrisome thoughts buzzing around in his mind, Markus's biggest concern was that the queen would sense his fear and take advantage of it. After all, he was supposed to be the brawn of the operation—the mercenary.

He gripped his overlarge battle-axe—which was strapped across his back—and tried to look intimidating, but he knew too much about the elementals and their renowned strength to feel intimidating at all.

Soon he heard blondie start his speech to the queen—it was a good thing too, because Markus needed _something_ to focus on other than the threat of being turned into an icicle.

He listened as his partner began, "Since the very beginning of time, magic has been shrouded in mystery—which as you can probably guess, makes some people fear it more than just about anything," yeesh, he was such a drama queen sometimes.

"Why some were given the gift and others were not is probably the greatest mystery of all, but we _do_ know that it's inherited from our ancestors. That being said, all magic is derived from an individual source. The most potent—and dangerous—magic is derived from the elements themselves. "

Could the infamous Snow Queen possibly not know all this? Markus had been taught about the origins of magic when he was only a kid. Then again, he hadn't exactly led a normal childhood.

The mercenary dug his axe into the hard ground and leaned over on it while blondie kept on with his explanation; Markus had heard that story so many times that he could probably recite it in his sleep. Speaking of which, sleep sounded pretty good; the fire was cozy, and his partner could definitely hold his own if anything happened. . .

Markus let his eyes droop and his posture sag. Elsa probably wouldn't even be able to tell if he took a _little_ nap.

* * *

><p>Elsa listened in disbelief as her captor continued his story. She had been sure that he would tell her all about the ransom he had put out for her return, or how her escape was "inconceivable"—wasn't that what kidnappers normally talked about? She was definitely not expecting this- this <em>fairytale. <em>

Surely she would have known after twenty-one years if there were others out there with magic—others like her. The whole idea was ludicrous.

She was beginning to suspect that her abductor was a candle short of a full candelabra, but maybe there was _some_ truth to his story. After all, her powers had to come from _somewhere_. In the past she had admittedly sought answers regarding the very things she was now being told all about.

'And they might have taken Anna too,' she reminded herself, then glanced over at the muscly guy with the axe and inwardly shuddered—he looked like he could pick her little sister up with one hand.

So, Elsa listened quietly as the man paced next to the fire and continued speaking in his strangely cryptic tone, "Very few people have elementally derived power, but there are quite a few who possess weaker non-elemental magic. Many of those go on to become legendary warriors, great healers, hypnotists—basically they could be anyone who's exceptionally gifted_._ There have been quite a few cases where people with weaker magic types never even discover their gifts."

Elsa pondered this for a moment, could there be magicians living in the streets of Arendelle right under her nose? Had she possibly met one before without ever giving them a backwards glance? The thought was disturbing to Elsa; if true, it changed everything she had ever believed.

She had always been the only one—alone in the world because of her gift . . . or curse. Although she had never been told to her face that she was weird, or scary, or a freak of nature, she could see the way certain people looked at her. They looked at her like she was dangerous—like she would never be the same as everyone else, but what if there really _were_ others like her, lots of others?

What if there was no "everyone else" but instead just two equally different groups of people?

If so, why hadn't anyone ever told her until now? Would her parents have told her if they got the chance? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

While the information what's-his-face gave Elsa was all very interesting, she wasn't quite sure why he thought it was worth kidnapping the queen and risking the death penalty over. There had to be something more that he wasn't telling her . . . or he really _was_ insane.

"So—why was all this so crucial to tell me now? Why couldn't it wait until after my coronation?" Elsa queried, trying to regain her composure; she purposefully didn't mention the kidnapping. She wanted answers, but was in no position to make her abductors mad—there was no telling how or on whom they would take out their anger.

There was a pause before the man stopped pacing and replied; Elsa sensed that he had been avoiding that question.

"This part may be a little harder to explain."

* * *

><p>It was the three o'clock in the morning, the sky was still velvety black and star studded, and Elsa still hadn't come home—why hadn't she come home?<p>

There was an absence in Anna's heart that reminded her of when her parents had—but no, Elsa wasn't, _couldn't be_—could she?

Anna had stayed up all night—first in the ballroom and later in the castle foyer—with Hans. She had stayed when all the party guests left, disappointed that the queen wasn't there to say her farewells.

She had stayed when the servants cleaned up the food, scrubbed the floors, and put out all the candles for the night, letting the shadows fall like a shroud over everything. That was when Anna started seeing things in the corners of the room—giant looming things that would kidnap your sister or worse.

She had stayed when Kai had announced that he was going to bed and that surely the queen would be back soon; it had been hours since then.

Now Hans had nodded off next to her and the palace was silent—a dead choking silent that would consume you if you let it—but Anna was determined to stay put.

She wouldn't get a wink of sleep even if she tried because she couldn't help but think that Elsa _never_ did this kind of thing. She was always in her room at exactly ten o'clock, except for now it was three o'clock and Elsa was never the risqué-boy-crazy type and—how could Anna have been so stupid?

So, there she was—wide awake in the castle foyer with Hans fast asleep in the chair beside her, because Elsa was _gone _and it was her fault.

Well, it would've helped if Elsa had just told Anna about the whole suitor thing in the first place, but still.

It was Anna's fault.

She should have known her own sister well enough to know that Elsa would never go off and make goo-goo eyes to some prince she barely even knew in the middle of her coronation. She should've known her sister hadn't chosen to vent to a complete stranger instead of talking to Anna—really she wasn't sure that Elsa had ever vented to _anyone_ except her.

She sat like that for hours, thinking about what she should've done, and planning how to organize the search party—should we take the whole army? No that's too obvious. Maybe we could bring camping supplies and go to the mountains, but what if they're already out of the country?

Most of all she couldn't stop herself from thinking, 'No, please not Elsa.'

* * *

><p>He honestly didn't know how to tell Elsa the truth, and even if he did she probably wouldn't believe him. So, he just told her in the best way he knew. The problem was that she <em>had<em> to believe the whole story or else _everything_ would burn—how could he tell her that?

He decided to just spit it out because he had to say it eventually, so he closed his eyes and recalled what he had worked and fought for so long to learn, "This part may be a little harder to explain. Long ago, before the records were even kept, the fire elemental ruled over the entire world, over both those with magic and without. Instead of bringing unity, he reigned with a cruel fist. Your ancestor saw the injustice the evil king caused and decided to do something about it, so he gathered an army to fight a great battle against the fire emperor and all his followers. He died, but so did the fire elemental. The trolls, who possess the earthen elemental power, used their gift to help restore harmony to the world and devoted themselves to a passive, peaceful lifestyle. Both your ancestor's family and the fire elemental's family lived on safely for many years. Up until now, the magical world has been relatively quiet, but recently an ancestor of the fire emperor has been planning something—something awful." That was even harder than he thought; he wasn't used to explaining himself to anyone—or really even talking to anyone—and had to fight the urge to recite his speech in the Old Language.

He had been so focused on getting the story right that he hadn't even noticed Elsa's reaction until just then; her expression was some mix of disbelief and intrigue.

"So, what _is_ he planning," she asked, furrowing her brow. Her eyes were locked on his in anticipation for the response.

"Let's just say that if there's one thing I've learned in all my studies, it's that history tends to repeat itself."

* * *

><p>Elsa wasn't sure whether to laugh or run away—he had to be insane. Was she expected to believe that some mythical battle no one had ever heard of was actually between a long forgotten family member of her's and some crazy fire king? What was more, she was supposed to believe that the fire king's descendant was—what? Coming for her? Trying to rule the world?<p>

It was just too much, Elsa didn't know how to respond but somehow she found herself asking, "So did you learn a _real_ name in any of your studies?" Oh, that was stupid; she must be losing her touch if words were starting to slip without her consent, but she didn't let her composure go. She couldn't lose whatever ground she had left.

Although it was clear from his expression—the sun had actually begun to rise and cast a pale glow over everything so that Elsa could see again—that her's was not the response the kidnapper had been hoping for, he sighed and said, "Niklas. And he's Markus."

Well, since _that_ was out of the way Elsa could focus on more important things.

'Like what to do now.' she thought.

She still wasn't convinced that any of the stuff Aleksander—no, Niklas— had rambled about was true. If it was, then everything changed. If it wasn't, then she had to figure out how to escape.

Neither option looked very appealing.

"So, I'm assuming since you know all this that you're some kind of sorcerer yourself," Elsa said, running her hands through her now dirty hair in an attempt to look nonchalant—she didn't want to let her disbelief show.

Now that the sun was coming up she was able to take in her surroundings; she realized that both men were younger than she expected—somewhere in their early twenties—as well as that Niklas had blond hair and was wearing a strange dark brown cloak. Still, he had same shadowy eyes as before.

It was hard to tell exactly where they were because snowcapped peaks blocked Elsa's view from either side—it was, of course, obvious that they were somewhere in the mountains though.

By the time Elsa focused back in on Niklas, he wasn't Niklas anymore. He was Aleksander.

"Recognize this?" He said in a new voice that was jaunty and not nearly as quiet, but now Elsa could pick up on the similarities between Niklas's own voice and the one he chose to characterize Aleksander. He was more muscular and had shiny brown hair along with a whole new outfit, but the eyes were the same as always. He just stood there, letting Elsa take in what had just happened.

Well, there was no doubt now that Niklas wasn't exactly the average kidnapper. Did that mean that everything he said was true? Suddenly the weight of the world was on Elsa's shoulders, and her head was spinning—she had to stop the bile threatening to come up her throat.

She wasn't able to wrap her mind around the new world she had just been introduced to, but should she accept it? How could she refuse it when the world could quite literally be in her hands? No, no more questions, _enough_ all ready.

Suddenly Arendelle and her responsibilities as queen seemed very small, almost insignificant.

Deep breath.

"So, where- where do I start?" she faltered, mashing her fingers into her temples, because at that point she needed someone—_anyone_—to tell her.

* * *

><p>Anna was about to lose it.<p>

Elsa still hadn't shown up, and Anna had gotten literally no sleep the night before—which was evident from the dark circle under her eyes.

She had already demanded that a search party be formed—one was almost immediately, though some of the guards shook their head at the state their princess was in. Now she was dressed in her pink riding attire and cloak—although for once her mood didn't fit the cheery array—and was ready to ride into the mountains in search of Elsa.

Hans had requested to come with her, of course, and so he was walking out to the stables with Anna. His hand held hers firmly; she wasn't sure if she would be able to make it through all of this without him. She wasn't flying anymore, she was falling, but Hans was still what held her up.

No words passed between the pair until they were mounted on their horses, but they did share a comforting gaze every once and a while as they walked through the too sunny courtyard. Stinking irony.

Once they were mounted and at the head of the search party, Hans gently addressed Anna alone, "So where do we start?" Even his horse wore a look of worry and sympathy.

At least Anna knew the answer to this question—she had thought about it all night, after all.

"The ice harvesting lakes in the mountains," she stated quietly, taking on a more stern tone than usual.

In the past, when Elsa was upset or just tired of her duties as crown princess, she would ride up to the lakes and stay there for hours. She could be who she really was up there, and didn't have to suppress her powers—at least, that was what she had told Anna.

The princess had decided that it would be a good idea to check there for two reasons: first because it was a secluded area, perfect for kidnappers, and second because if Elsa had managed to escape, the lakes would likely be the first place she would run.

Anna hoped that she had chosen the destination wisely.

"Ok," Hans agreed before directing the search party, "Half of you go out towards the village; search there and in the regions surrounding there. The rest of you should come with me and the princess to look in the mountains." He pulled on the reins of his horse and set off towards the mountain road; Anna and their half of the search party followed suit.

'Hold on Elsa.'

* * *

><p>Magnus had decided that there were two ways to build an army.<p>

The first was to appeal to people's greed, and though that always worked, it also ended with great tragedy for the leaders which chose that route—there was no one to stop the greed from destroying them as well.

The second way took more time, but was much more reliable; the second way was to give people a common cause—to unite them.

Magnus had chosen the second way.

He had spent a year rallying support for his cause, and it had paid off—he had built an army. The question was when the opportune time to attack was; when was the right time to take the world as his own?

He decided that the answer was soon.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello, and welcome again to this little corner of the internet! Thank you to everyone who followed, favorite, or reviewed on the last chapter, and a special thanks to **Desss4ever** who has reviewed every chapter so far!

So, I've been toying with the idea of writing a collection of one-shots to go with this story. They would explore some past events and give a little extra insight on the characters and their motivations. If you want to see this happen, please let me know! I may write them anyways as an exercise to help me get a feel for the characters, but I probably won't publish them unless you guys are interested.

As always, feedback of any sort if encouraged, so don't forget to favorite/follow/review!

I do not own Frozen.

* * *

><p>Elsa sat next to the campfire with Niklas and Markus—though she was still unsure whether they were companions or kidnappers. The valley they were in was a small nook of shelter surrounded by crisp white snow stretching out in every direction. Elsa was sure that if she climbed to the top of one of the peaks nearby that she could see the green planes leading to Arendelle.<p>

Her brain had started functioning much better once the sun was spanning across the sky-though enough time had passed that it was currently a dusky orb hiding behind the mountains-and there was a plate of warm food in her hands. The ability to think clearly was very nice to have back.

At first all she had wanted was to _act_ upon the monumental news she had been given; there had to be something she could _do_. However, she now realized that the smart thing was to recharge and prepare herself for whatever came next. Plus, she still needed some answers.

She went over everything that had just happened in her mind, trying to retain anything that could be of some importance.

* * *

><p>"<em>So where- Where do I start?" Elsa suddenly couldn't stand the thought of sitting down any longer, not when there was so much to be done. She forced her hands and legs to push herself up off of the ground, awkwardly transitioning into a vertical position. <em>

_'There, that wasn't so bad.' She encouraged herself. _

_As soon as she was up, Niklas—who looked like himself again and not Aleksander—answered her question."Well, _eating_ might be a good place to begin," he chortled, stopping to stoke the campfire. _

_It wasn't quite what Elsa had been hoping to hear, but now that he mentioned it she could feel her stomach groan a little in discontent. When was the last time she had eaten? There hadn't been a chance to get anything to eat at the coronation ball, thanks to "Prince Aleksander". _

_She sighed and strode over to the fire, trying to keep her distance from the bigger man, Markus who was hunched over on his gargantuan axe. No matter how convincing these people were, Elsa couldn't let her guard down. _

_But she had to cover her mouth in a poor attempt to conceal a snicker when she realized that the broad young man's eyes were drooping closed and he was breathing heavily—there was even a little stream of drool down his chin. She recognized a chance to escape, but was no longer sure that escape was the right choice; she needed to find out what was really going on. _

_Niklas shot her a quizzical look, obviously not sure what was so funny. He followed her gaze all the way to Markus, at which point his eyes grew at an alarming rate as he realized that his partner was fast asleep. He walked over menacingly to where Markus was napping—clearly upset that he was sleeping on the job. _

_Once Niklas was hovering over the unlucky man, Elsa winced, certain that she was about to witness something- well _violent_ to say the least. Instead, Niklas simply snatched the axe out from under Markus's arms, letting gravity do the rest of the work. _

_Markus stumbled—arms still outstretched as if leaning on his axe—before nearly tumbling into the flame. He caught himself just in time, but began looking about wildly, trying to find whatever had just woken him. _

_The whole scene would've been comical, _if_ Elsa wasn't so scared that Markus was going to lash out at whatever was in his path. She could remember quite clearly what Anna had done to those who were unfortunate enough to wake _her_ up; the queen could only imagine what this much stronger man could do. _

_Instead of going manic like Elsa had expected, as soon as Markus seemed to be aware of what had happened he stomped purposefully to where Niklas was stooped—rummaging through a bag of supplies, still gripping the mercenary's axe. The larger of the two men reached out in a silent request for his axe, but Niklas just placed a cast iron frying pan in his open hand. _

_"Warm up some breakfast." He commanded, giving his partner a self-satisfied smile. _

_Markus huffed, but muttered, "Whatever," and pulled some miscellaneous items from the supplies bag. Soon he began to prepare the food—maintaining a sour look the whole time. _

_Niklas strolled casually away from his perturbed partner and sat cross legged by the fire, seemingly trying to relax a little. Elsa decided to take the opportunity to ask a few more questions._

_"So, what kind of magic do you have exactly- or for that matter, does he have it too?" She gestured towards Markus—who was now setting the skillet on a makeshift stand over the flame. _

_The queen liked to be aware of all variables in a situation, it was one thing that she had learned from the political game she so often had to play. Unfortunately, she had barely understood a thing that was going since she had woken up that night._

_"My powers come from the shadows—I guess you could say I'm an illusionist. Markus is more of an alchemist or healer, he used to be a Druid," Niklas replied rather shortly. _

_Druid—The word was strange to Elsa, only used in storybooks that she had long forgotten the words to. She didn't really know all that it entailed, and that bothered her. She made a mental note to learn more about it later. Illusionist on the other hand- she could figure that one out. _

_"Where did you learn the fire elemental's story? How do you know it's true?" Elsa really wanted to ask, _'Why should I believe you?' _but she thought better of it. _

_"The Mages—you'll meet them soon enough if all goes as planned—introduced me to it, but I did a lot of research myself," Niklas stated—Elsa filed the Mages away in her brain as another topic she would have to find more information on. _

_It seemed to Elsa like Niklas had worn a proud gleam in his eyes when talking about his "research", and she wondered how long it had taken for the history she had just been taught to be unearthed. Still, the illusionist's answers only told half the story and she knew that she would have to learn some things for herself-_

_Suddenly, Elsa was taken from her thoughts when she sniffed out a hearty aroma and turned to find Markus smiling and holding the cast iron pan, which was full of some kind of sizzling meat. _

_"Breakfast's ready!" He announced enthusiastically, a sloppy grin spread across his face; what a sudden change of mood _he_ had undergone. _

* * *

><p>Elsa was finally feeling well again after eating, if not a little grimy. In all honesty, the thin layer of dirt that spread over her hair and clothes bothered her more than it probably should have, since she was so accustomed to living in a spotless environment.<p>

'Come on Elsa, you have bigger problems than getting a little dirty," she scolded herself.

Now that her mind was fully awake and a few of her inquiries were resolved, her thoughts began to turn back to Anna. She felt a wave of guilt once she realized that her sister had been so easy to put out of her mind when faced with other challenges—granted that one of those challenges was saving the world.

'Wait a second—If they're here to help me, then Anna . . .' Elsa was hit with a new suspicion, but she had to confirm it-

"So, if you really don't want to hurt me, then why did you kidnap my sister?" Elsa decided to play it dumb, just in case she was wrong.

Nicklas drew a quick breath while he and Markus shared a knowing glance; immediately Elsa realized that she had been right, but she let them say it anyways.

"Uh, well we never exactly did- that." Markus stuttered, bowing his head sheepishly as though waiting to be yelled at. It was the first time he had answered any of Elsa's questions.

She raised an accusing eyebrow—he deserved to feel ashamed of what he did.

"We just- well, we didn't want you to err—_kill_ us, and we figured that if you thought we had her. . ." He trailed off while Niklas glared at him.

"We needed leverage," the illusionist finished, not expounding any more upon the issue.

While Elsa was upset at them to say the least, she sighed and let the issue drop. She knew better than anyone that sometimes the ends justified the means—she just needed to know for certain what _their_ ends was.

It was unusual, though, that she had been so easily fooled—normally she could see through a bluff like that in an instant (years of practice). She was curious if the illusion skill set included more than just shape shifting, or if Niklas was just naturally charismatic. She would have to find out eventually, but doubted that Niklas would simply hand out the truth about his own abilities— he enjoyed his shadows and mystery stuff too much.

In the meantime, she stared silently into the distance pondering how close Anna was; for all the Elsa knew she could be just over the hillside, searching for her. She felt a strong desire tugging at her gut; she should be looking for Anna too—doing everything she could to get back to her little sister- her best friend. Unfortunately, she knew that she had to keep learning. She had to _know_ that what Niklas had told her was true, and if it was she had to try to save. . . everything.

The queen held a deeply rooted urge to _help_ people—especially those who could not help themselves—and lead them to safety. She had always put this into practice as ruler of Arendelle, and could not ignore it now that she was responsible for so much more than her own little kingdom.

When her thoughts had settled, Elsa found herself asking almost the exact same question she had to begin with.

"So, where do we start?"

That single word _"we"_ was the shadow of a trust which would soon be forged, and it marked the beginning of a long journey for Elsa, though she barely even knew it herself.

* * *

><p>It turned out to be a picturesque day, the view was grandiose. Anna had never seen trees like those which inhabited in the mountains, and to her they seemed like towering, limitless entities. The sunlight seeped through their leaves, creating random golden patches all along the forest floor and casting a dusky green glow over everything.<p>

The wild beauty didn't faze Anna. While on any other day she would have been frolicking happily, soaking up the mesmerizing nature, on that day she somberly trotted along on her horse. On that day she had only one thing on her agenda—

_Keep going._

All she wanted was to arrive at the cold ridden, frozen lakes ahead. She imagined that she could see them, so close she could reach out and-

_Keep going. _

The only thing stopping her from pushing her horse into a full gallop was Hans. He and his beautiful mare flanked her horse, keeping a steady pace—reminding her to keep calm.

C_lip-clop-clip-clop. _

Anna listened to the constant rhythm, trying to match her breathing to it.

_In-out-in-out_.

Her mind told her to panic, her heart told her to cry, but the steady beat of hooves slapping against the earth only told her to _keep going_. And so she did.

She rode for hours on end—the procession of guards following closely behind her—until finally they came upon a scenery change from the monotonous, endless woodland.

It was a quaint wooden cabin nestled in a small clearing that, upon closer inspection, was carefully carved and neatly painted. It also had a chimney—which billowed smoke even though it was the middle of summer. Huh, she guessed some people were just really cold natured.

She pressed onward thinking nothing more of it, but Hans pulled his horse to a stop. Though she wasn't quite sure what he was doing, and was a bit annoyed to be shaken from her numb auto-movement (feeling nothing was better than hurting all over), Anna followed his lead and reigned her horse in.

She listened to his explanation for their sudden pause. "We could use a place to stay for the night, maybe they have room or even some supplies," he called to the search party and steered his horse towards the little building.

Anna reached a hand out, about to ask him why they were stopping for the night. After all, it was only—_oh_. She hadn't even noticed that the sun had begun to slip behind the mountains in the distance, or that the sky had faded to purple, welcoming the eventide.

She quickly placed her hand back on her lap and trailed behind Hans, not at all ready to stop. Elsa was out there and she needed their help _right then_.

The princess heard a distant, mournful howling.

All of the sudden, a fear of being alone in the dark woods gripped her and she hurried along, making sure that she wouldn't fall behind.

Once the group had tied the horses up to several posts which enclosed a porch area of the cabin, Anna inspected a sign which hung over the entryway.

"Wandering Oaken's Trading Post," she announced to no one in particular before she noticed a smaller sign, "Oh, and sauna." That explained the smoke she had noticed earlier.

Hans placed a gloved hand on Anna's shoulder, grinning brightly, "It looks nice," he decided.

It _did_ look nice. Light streamed through the windows—beckoning for travelers to visit the little shop—and troll statues guarded the entrance, reminding Anna of the garden gnomes she had seen in some of the villager's yards.

Anna felt a smile play at the corners of her lips for the first time all day.

She strode to the front of the group and turned the iron handle of the wooden door, eager to enter the cozy looking building.

As she pulled the door open, the princess heard the brassy tinkling sound of a bell welcoming her. The room's atmosphere pulled her in and instantly made her feel at home. Warm lantern light cast over all sorts of knick-knacks, organized nicely on shelves. There were books—ooh, '_Traversing with Trolls_'—colorful bottles, summer clothes, cute miniature animal figurines, and all sorts of camping supplies.

"Yoo-hoo!" she heard a cheerful voice call out from her left, "Big summer blowout, half off swimming suits, clogs, and a sun-balm of my own invention!"

Anna turned to find a large man—who she assumed was "Wandering Oaken"—sitting behind a counter, happily advertising a brown bottle of what she guessed to be sun-balm. He had ginger hair and a bushy mustache to match, while his fair skin gave a clue as to why he needed a sun-balm.

"Hello," she waved to the plump man, feeling the pleasant effect of the area seep into her own mood.

Hans briskly walked up to the counter from behind her, "Sorry, but for now we're wondering if you have anywhere our group could stay, or any supplies we could use. We'll pay, of course, and it's very important," he used a businesslike but not rude tone.

"Oh ah, no good. I've got plenty of supplies, but there's nowhere for you to stay but my stable and you people don't look like-"

Out of nowhere, the door was flung open, revealing a rugged looking mountain man whose clothes were lightly dusted with—snow? But it was the dead of June, and the only place where _any_ snow would be was. . . The ice lakes!

Snow. Ice lakes. _Elsa!_ It all added up!

Anna edged over to where the brawny man was standing, pretending to scout out the shop's wares. Eventually she bumped into him, and put on a surprised facade, "Hiya, heh- sorry about that. Sooo, have you been anywhere around the _ice lakes_ lately?"

His light brown eyes stared at her blankly from underneath his unkempt blonde hair for a moment—apparently she didn't come off quite as casual as she had hoped.

Still, she gazed back expectantly, and eventually he answered, "Uh, _yes_." He cocked a slightly frosted brow as if to say, _'How could ya tell?"_

At that point, Hans was watching her rather puzzled-ly too, but Anna was only thinking about how, 'He could've seen Elsa!'

So, she continued, unabashed, "Uh-huh, well I was kinda wondering if you saw anyone _else_ up there—like, I don't know, the _queen_ perhaps?"

The young man took an uncomfortable step back, "No—I didn't see anyone other than myself and my reindeer." He sidestepped irritably around her towards the counter, grabbing a few carrots before he headed to the winter department.

Anna sighed, he hadn't seen Elsa after all. Maybe he just missed her, because Elsa _had_ to be there. Anna wasn't sure where she would go if the lakes turned out to be a dead end—she wasn't sure what she would _do_.

No Elsa _was_ there, Anna was sure of it. The princess had to stay positive, because if she didn't she would fall into the depression biting at her heels like a hungry wolf, threatening to pull her down forever—'No, not Elsa.'

She could handle this.

She looked around the comfortable room, she looked at all the cute little trinkets, she looked at the irascible man she had just met—maybe he could help after all—she looked at _Hans, _who was protectively wrapping his arm around her.

She _could_ handle this.

* * *

><p><em>"So where do we start?" <em>

The question rang in Niklas's ears; he pressed his eyes shut and turned around, away from Elsa. He knew the answer, but it was the asker that got to him.

'Why can't she just STOP TALKING?!' his mind was in chaos.

He had expected the questions, prepared himself for them, but he was not ready for _her_. He was not ready to be in the presence of another person after years of complete solitude—Markus alone had been a shock.

Yes, he knew the answers, but could no longer explain them to someone else. He had been keeping a calm, collected front until then, but it was like with each interaction pressure was building. It would eat him from the inside out until '_pop' _he finally exploded.

He had to clear his mind; _he had to be alone_.

He slowly sat down, drew his hood over his face, his eyes, his whole consciousness.

He was alone. He could think again. He could _breathe_ again.

* * *

><p>Niklas curled up in front of his eyes, completely ignoring the queen's question. Oh no, not <em>this<em> again.

"Niklas, you idiot, _not right now_!" Markus thundered, shaking his partners shoulders, "_Aargh!_ Niklas you've got to tell her what to do next!" He gestured to Elsa, who was standing shoulder to shoulder with him, a look of fright and confusion dominating her face.

What Markus _didn't_ say was that Niklas had to tell _him_ what to do next as well, the illusionist had insisted on keeping some parts of the plan a secret—for "security reasons" he said. Markus cursed his counterpart's enigmatic nature.

It wasn't the first time Niklas had shut him out in that manner, as a matter of fact he had done it on several other occasions. However, Markus had been hoping that once they put the plan into motion, Niklas would pull it together. Obviously, he hadn't.

Markus didn't know the details of everything that was going on, but he knew that they were probably being tailed by the enemy. He knew that they definitely didn't have time for- well, _whatever_ Niklas was doing—they had to be productive.

Markus stepped back from his partner, his frustrated expression replaced with one of cold annoyance, "Come on Elsa, I think I know why he took us here," he tried to seem confident in his statement. It wasn't a complete lie, there was only one reason Markus could think of as to why Niklas chose their location.

Elsa hesitated, clearly picking up on the fact that Niklas was the guy who came up with the plan. Eventually, she brushed her dress off and wordlessly followed Markus as he headed into a crevice positioned between two large hills. He figured she was too shocked to argue.

Niklas still sat with his face hidden, completely motionless by the fire.

Markus hoped he wasn't making a stupid decision. Who was he kidding, he hadn't made a good decision since he was still just a Druid boy; his choice to help Niklas was conclusive evidence of that fact.

* * *

><p>Elsa didn't like blindly following people.<p>

That was why she had hesitated when Markus told her to follow him, not giving her a single reason to do so. While she was not at all sure what the mercenary was trying to accomplish, she didn't know what she could do other than go along with it. Sitting around with Niklas—who could say what _he_ was doing—certainly didn't seem like it would achieve anything.

So, Elsa went after Markus, following him through the steep, craggy valley until they reached a thin line of trees.

There was something vaguely familiar about the area, but Elsa couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was the way something glimmered faintly from behind the trees, or how the chill in the air became stronger—invigorating her.

Markus spontaneously came to a halt in the trees, just before Elsa could see what lie beyond the leaves and branches. He turned to her, displaying a goofy grin that completely saturated his features—even his dark hair flopped over his forehead, making him look like a oversized puppy.

"You're gonna like this," he promised, no longer looking anything like a hardened mercenary.

"What is-" Elsa didn't have time to finish her question before Markus pulled back the branches, giving The queen a clear view of what lie ahead.

Her breath caught in her throat—before her lay the largest of the ice harvesting lakes she had visited in the past. The purple-orange sunset glared off of the white hills in the background, reflecting back onto the lake in sparkling fractals of light. Her heart was drawn to that of the icy pool, inviting her to join it in rebellion of the summer, just as she had before.

"You're right, I do like it." she replied, dazed by the nostalgic exquisiteness of the place. She didn't catch Markus's contented smile, her ice-blue eyes were too busy staring widely at the frozen landscape before her.

Elsa was a kid again, she was too naive to wonder what people would think, she was too excited to hold back.

She was _free_.

She ran forward, unclasping her soiled cape and letting it float behind her. She laughed a tinkling, delicate laugh and let her power surge through one arm, creating Olaf—the snowman from back when things were so much _simpler_. Could she make them that simple again?

She turned both palms skyward, allowing tiny flakes arranged in intricate patterns fly into the air, before floating carelessly away into the wind.

"Wait, hold up a second," Markus laughed jogging onto the ice, "I think you're supposed to practice—or learn how to use your powers or something."

"Ok, how do you propose I do _that?"_ Elsa retorted, earning a pronounced blush from the mercenary.

"Uh, well I don't really—" Elsa didn't hear the rest of his answer, she was distracted by a rustling in the trees.

She whipped her head to face the noise, but couldn't see anything at first. Still, there was an eerie silence which Markus to draw his axe.

More silence. Elsa could hear her own heartbeat.

Then, a figure emerged from the tree line, burly and worn looking—Elsa could see no weapon on him. Then another figure appeared from out of the leaves followed by two more—none shared a common trait other than their lack of any sort of armament.

Markus gripped his axe threateningly, and at first she the queen afraid that he was going to attack her with them, but then she noticed that his eyes were wide with terror.

He had no words of advice or comfort, he only uttered a very soft, "Oh, _no._"


	7. Chapter 7

Hi! Wow has it really been three weeks?! Sorry! I'm pretty sure school has been trying to eat my soul along with my free time. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter, It's a little rushed so sorry if there's a few errors. I'll probably edit it some more, but I really didn't want to leave you guys hanging for so long.

Don't forget to favorite, follow, and review! Any support you give means a lot! As always, constructive criticism is welcome!

I_ still_ don't own Frozen.

* * *

><p>Anna had a crazy idea.<p>

Ok, so maybe crazy idea's weren't exactly an uncommon thing for her, but this one definitely ranked on up there with some of most insane ideas she'd ever had. As in it ranked right beneath the one where she tried to convince some duke that she was the Queen of France—when she was ten. But hey, desperate times called for even more desperate measures.

This ridiculous, perfect idea had her filled up to the brim with a new hope, and she really didn't understand why. If Elsa were there she would've said something really wise like, '_don't get you're hopes up_,' but at that point Anna couldn't help it.

So, she made her crazy idea a reality.

She stepped out of Hans's light embrace—not noticing his slightly surprised expression—and made her way towards the mountain man standing in the winter department, carefully inspecting a pickaxe.

She poked him on the back with one finger, hoping that he could feel it through his heavy coat. Apparently he did, because he just barely turned the side of his head and said, "Yeah?"

For a moment Anna forgot what she was going to say, but then she remembered her idea, "So, I was wondering—No, I mean, _ahem_," she tried to take on the same tone of voice that Elsa used when she ordered people to do things, "Guide us to the ice harvesting lakes." Even in her own ears the princess's voice sounded too deep and firm.

Mountain-dude did a full turnaround this time, "Wait, _what?"_ His chocolate eyes squinted a little in confusion.

"Well, I think I said it pretty clear-" Anna started, but before she could say any more, Hans was there beside her.

"Uh, Anna I think you're a little confused, maybe the ride's been hard on you. We have map's, and I'm sure we can make it to the lake's without any of this—" Hans quickly looked the man up and down, "_gentleman's_ help."

"Yes, but he probably knows all about the good hiding places, and-" Anna stopped talking when mountain-dude started chuckling quietly—more to himself than anyone else.

"What's so funny?" The princess asked, quirking one of her eyebrows.

"Nothing, just that—do you really think you can make it to the ice-harvesting lakes with just a _map?" _He stopped laughing, waiting for a response. Hans looked like he was afraid that mountain-dude might actually be insane—like, asylum insane.

"Well, what else do you use? We've got a whole search par—I mean _crew_ too," Anna gestured to the other members of their party in the room. She didn't want the queen's sudden disappearance to be advertised any more than necessary. "Why would we need anything else?" She felt like she was missing something; she probably was.

"Look, nobody's bothered to map these mountains out in years. The paths have all changed, mostly from rockslides and avalanches; if you try to use a map you'll just find yourself more lost than before. The only way you'll get to the lakes is if you already _know_ how to get there."

With that, the man grabbed the pickaxe he was eyeing along with some rope, then walked straight to the counter.

Hans looked like he was ready to punch mountain-dude in the face, but Anna was not about to be stopped by the stranger's grumpiness.

She ate grumpiness for breakfast.

So, before Hans could do anything he regretted, the princess strode over to where mountain-dude was standing; this time she didn't bother tapping him on the shoulder.

"Look," she put on her best tough-face, trying not to let on exactly how nervous-and desperate-she was, "If the paths really have changed, then we'll need your help to get to the lakes. I'll pay you—give you whatever you want—just help us get to where we need to go."

Well, she might have tipped her hand—a lot—but she figured that now the man would help them for sure.

Mountain-dude turned toward Anna and narrowed his eyes—the princess could tell he was on the brink of giving in. He finally sighed and muttered, "Let me talk to my reindeer."

Wait, did he just say what Anna _thought_ he said? Because a talking reindeer was even higher on the weirdness scale than a bowing horse.

Before Anna even had time to ask, Hans appeared next to her. He pulled her aside—literally—and whispered, "Anna I don't think this is a good idea, don't you think he's a little," the prince used his index finger to make the universal symbol for _crazy, loco, _or whatever else you wanted to call it.

Anna whispered back, "Oh, I think he's alright, even if the talking reindeer thing is a little—odd."

From behind them, mountain-dude called, "You know I can hear you, right?"

Not giving Hans any time to disagree, Anna took a step back to mountain-guy and announced, "You're hired- I mean, after you talk to your, um, reindeer," beat, "Oh, what's you're name again?"

"Kristoff."

He said it firmly and without embellishment; Anna decided that she liked the name. She wasn't sure yet, but Anna though she might end up liking Kristoff—not just his name either.

* * *

><p>Hans didn't like Kristoff at all.<p>

Firstly, because for some reason Anna had ignored his own advice just to hire the mountain man. It was the first time she had disputed anything Hans said—the first time she didn't conform to his will. That wasn't something he couldn't stand for if he wanted the throne—and he did.

Secondly, because Hans had no intention of ever finding Elsa. Without her in the picture, Anna was first in line for the throne, exactly what he had planned from the beginning. _Losing_ the queen was so much neater than trying to _kill_ her. However, with Kristoff around there was a chance that they would actually _find_ Elsa, making the prince's life a lot harder.

So, Hans knew that he had to get rid of Kristoff as soon as possible, and considering that he wanted to avoid any unnecessary killing, he decided to make sure the search was over quickly.

He didn't think that would be too hard.

* * *

><p>Kristoff didn't take people places.<p>

He just _didn't—_not that he had ever tried, but he honestly was more the _troll_ or _reindeer_ kind of guy. People, well he could live without.

As he walked out of the trading post—leaving behind a very miffed looking Oaken—to ask for Sven's advice, he was unsure as to why he was even _considering_ to help this crazy girl. She didn't even tell him her name! Actually, now that he thought about it, it made him sort of uncomfortable that she knew his name and he didn't know hers.

So he asked, "Uh, what your name again? Oh and you too." With a mittened hand, he pointed to crazy-girl and boyfriend respectively.

"Oops, guess I kinda forgot—I'm Anna and he's Hans," she responded, her reddish braids bouncing with every word. Hans just smiled and held up one hand in a wave. Anna didn't bother to introduce the rest of the "crew", but Kristoff didn't really mind.

These people were so happy it wore him out, not that he didn't like happy, but they were _happy_.

He made his way to where Sven was picketed at the only post not already occupied by a horse—it was good to see the reindeer's familiar face after just meeting so many new people.

He rubbed Sven's head, "Hey buddy, I've got a question."

"Yes?" Sven answered; Anna and Hans exchanged puzzled/freaked out glances. What was their problem?

Kristoff shrugged it off and continued, "Do you think we should take these people out to the ice lakes? I think they really need our help, and they said they would pay, but I just—I don't think-"

Sven cut him off, "We should do it, we need the money for the carrot fund. Besides, I don't ever get to see people—well, except _you_." The reindeer pranced excitedly at the thought of getting to know more humans; Anna looked like she wasn't sure whether to laugh or run away, a halfway smile was plastered across her face.

"Really? Are you sure because they seem a little–"

Sven snorted stubbornly, so Kristoff sighed in defeat and turned back towards Anna and Hans.

"Well, it's decided," he monotoned, "We'll take you to the lakes—as long as you pay us—we leave at dawn."

Anna held Hans in the most excited, deadly-tight hug Kristoff had ever seen and squealed, "Thank you!" Then she cleared her throat, let go of Hans, and said, "I mean, you can come along if you like," in an almost serious voice.

Kristoff just rolled his eyes and walked back to the shop. He still needed to get some carrots.

* * *

><p>'Stupid decision. Stupid decision. <em>Stupid decision,' <em>was all Markus could think as he looked around at the group of adversaries slowly closing in on Elsa and himself. The woods were the only exit—everything else was surrounded by steep, nearly unscalable slopes. Of course, the woods were blocked off by the enemy; Markus had walked straight into a trap.

He tightened his grasp on Skarp (yes, he named his axe, why was that such a big deal?), not noticing the finger nail shaped indentions he was making on the handle's already battered leather grips.

There were _four_ of them. With any luck, and a little of Elsa's help, he had confidence that he could take out one—maybe two—but four? Markus wasn't sure he could take on four battle ready sorcerers who were no doubt prepared to kill brutally. If Elsa was trained for this kind of stuff then they might stand a chance, but she wasn't, and even if she _was_ it would be risky.

Niklas just _had_ to take the morning off, 'Great timing blondie.'

Markus swallowed, a plan forming in his head—ok, so maybe it was the worst, most sloppy plan he had ever come up with, but it was still a plan.

He wet his lips nervously; "Elsa," he half whispered, not daring to turn and face her, "Here's what we're gonna-" He didn't have time to finish explaining before the queen—the freaking _Queen of Arendelle_—was running ahead of _him_, a steely look of determination set in her blue eyes. A blizzard stormed before her, strategically blocking the view of her attackers.

Markus's eyes grew wide with surprise; he felt his jaw go slack—well, she had guts, he could give her that. After a quick beat, his face broke into a rough grin. The fear he had felt before was almost instantaneously replaced with an adrenaline rush—the same kind that drove him to be a mercenary in the first place. He could do _anything_.

He sprinted ahead, quickly catching up to Elsa. With both hands, he held Skarp out in front of him, ready to swing at whoever came in his path. Unfortunately, thanks to Elsa's blizzard, he couldn't see what lay ahead.

'Oh well,' if he could do anything,then he could take out these wimps—blizzard or no.

* * *

><p>Elsa didn't entirely know what just happened. One minute she was gawking at the mismatched group of adversaries before her, and the next she was rushing into what would soon be a full on battle. For once she didn't think, she simply let the cold rush through her, pushing her forward—guiding her.<p>

As she ran, she glanced backwards to see if Markus was following her. He was, and had gained enough ground that he trailed only about a yard behind. A wild look shone in his eyes, and his face was one of complete confidence. Was it really just a moment ago that he seemed scared out of his wits? What was it with him and mood swings?

'Focus.'

Elsa snapped her head back forwards, trying to see if any enemies would appear from out of the billowing white she had conjured. She squinted against the frosty wind blowing in her face.

Suddenly, her vision was filled with a horrible brightness that burned her eyes and forced her to stumble blindly to a halt. The snowstorm stopped, blanketing the already frozen ground with more snow. Without the blizzard's background noise to muffle them, the sounds of Markus fighting the others filled the air.

Elsa slammed her eyelids closed, but the light wouldn't leave—it lingered, throbbing and burning. She scrubbed her eyes harshly, fighting the urge to scream. After a few moments of agonizing white-hot pain, she began to feel the sharp ache dull to a stinging sensation, but her vision was still spotted and blurry.

While she was recovering, Elsa felt a pair of ropy objects tug roughly at her ankles, forcing her onto the ground. Instinctively, she lashed out with both arms, causing a haphazardly shaped wall of ice to form and fly through the air in front of her.

Elsa heard a loud _thud_ and a groan from the direction she had sent the projectile. She bit the inside of her cheek—hopefully that wasn't Markus. If she could just _see_ where she was aiming things would be much easier.

'First things first,' she thought, brain already rushing to find a way out of her predicament, 'get rid of whatever's around my ankles.'

She concentrated on letting frost pool around the skin where she was being bound, creating razor-sharp icicles. She forced her eyes to stay open—staring at the ground despite the fact that they were watering and red. She could see the faint outline of the things coiled around her; they were slowly being pierced as the icicles grew out of her legs.

There was a snapping noise and Elsa was freed; she began running like mad—or more accurately staggering blindly—towards the sound of Markus's voice. Apparently he talked a lot when fighting, saying things like, "I've got you now!" or, "Oh, no you don't!" in a deeper, grittier tone than normal.

As she was hurrying towards Markus, Elsa noticed her vision gradually returning to her, and now she could see that he was just ahead of her—near the edge of the tree line. He was fighting a wiry young man who repetitively sent roots and vines writhing like snakes up to the mercenary—who in turn chopped them with his axe. Occasionally a vine would climb all the way up Markus's leg before he managed to hack it off, but he was avidly protecting his upper body from the greenery's anaconda like grip.

At least now Elsa knew what had tied her down before—plants. Could the day get any stranger?

After getting over the initial weirdness of the moving plants, Elsa hurried to aid Markus, though he seemed to be doing decently on his own. However, before she had reached him, another figure emerged from the woods—directly behind Elsa's axe-wielding ally. The newcomer was identical to the foe already attacking the mercenary.

"Niklas?" Elsa wondered aloud, pausing briefly—was it possible that he took on the form of the plant-sorcerer? After all, the queen hadn't noticed any twins before, though she _was_ caught off guard at the time. . . Soon the new figure conjured a wicked looking wooden staff—spiked at the top with thorns as long as Elsa's fist. He proceeded to creep ominously up closer to Markus, clearly trying to avoid detection (and getting his head chopped off).

"Definitely not Niklas!" the queen decided.

She sprinted forward, but soon realized that it would be too late to reach her comrade by foot. So, she stretched out a hand and felt her arm lock as ice pulsed through her blood and out of her palm. The result was several pointed icicles, pinning the twin to a tree; his staff fell harmlessly onto the ground.

Elsa let out a sigh of relief.

She turned her attention to the other plant-twin, who was momentarily distracted by his brother's predicament, but Markus was already on it. He used the opponent's surprise to his advantage, cutting a nasty gash in the man's shoulder and effectively knocking him out with the brunt of his axe—Elsa winced.

The two collectively caught their breath before the mercenary gave Elsa his trademark grin, but it soon faded into a look of alarm. He quickly scanned the area before asking, "Wait, there's three down—where's the fourth?"

Elsa swallowed and studied her surroundings—here was no sign of the fourth opponent. No noise, no movement in the trees, not even a stray footprint—nothing.

"He must've gotten away," Markus growled, angrily kicking some snow into the air, "He probably went to report. We need to make sure the others don't do the same thing, plus maybe one of them's a squealer. . .Where's Niklas when you need him?"

* * *

><p>Niklas looked up and he returned to the real world. He knew what needed to be done.<p>

'Wait, where is everyone?' The fire had been reduced to a pile of embers and the sun had completely sunken behind the hills; he was out for longer than he thought.

He stood up, letting the hood slip off of his head, and roved around the campsite for any sign of his companions—there was none to be found.

"The least Markus could've done was leave a note," he grumbled, completely at a loss as to where the others could've gone.

Suddenly, he heard noises coming from the direction of the ice lakes—some loud thudding and shouts; Markus's voice was unmistakable. It sounded like he was trying to intimidate someone—Niklas decided he was much better at _that_ with his mouth closed.

'But this doesn't make any sense- unless. . .' He put two and two together.

Niklas scrambled away from the campsite, his cloak billowing behind him darkly. He ran along the path he had already chosen to be the fastest route to the ice lakes.

He should've known that the enemy was tailing them. He should've been alert, but instead he had completely let his guard down. Now Markus and Elsa had wandered off, and the whole plan was at risk.

This was exactly why he preferred doing things alone, other people just made things—_messy_. Then again, it was _Markus_ he was dealing with. . .

And then there was Elsa too. Niklas wasn't sure what to think of the queen; everything about her was guarded. He could relate.

Niklas snapped back into consciousness when he reached the edge of the tree line. He didn't even notice the silence fall until he was already upon the battlefield. The hush had a frightening finality to it—the battle was over, but who had won?

'You weren't there to help them,' his inner voice reminded him. He cursed; if they had lost, it was his fault.

He cautiously pulled back some limbs to make his way towards the clearing, but before he could take more than two steps, he heard something crashing through the woods. The next thing he knew, there was a large body pinning him to the ground—effectively knocking the breath out of him.

He slowly opened his eyes, not really wanting to know what was on top of him. His vision focused in on a face—

"Markus! _You_ _little_—," he regained his composure, bringing his voice dangerously low, "Markus, get off of me. _Now_."

The mercenary's face relaxed, "Don't worry Elsa, It's him," Niklas could practically hear the eye-roll. Markus stood up and brushed himself off, while Elsa wordlessly appeared from the other side of the trees.

"Who did it look like to you?" Niklas retorted, picking himself up off the ground.

"I dunno, could've been _any_ illusionist, or it could've been you." Markus smarted back.

The illusionist was _not_ in the mood for this.

"Why did you leave the campground? You knew how dangerous it was." He might as well get to the point.

"Oh let's see, it might have had something to do with the fact that you were sitting on your rear end doing _absolutely_ _nothing_. I figured _someone_ had to get things done." Markus took a single intimidating step towards Niklas.

"Next time stick to the plan." Niklas crossed his arms, standing his ground.

"What plan? You mean the one you didn't tell me? We're _partners_ Niklas, I don't take orders—you're not even _paying_ me!" At that point Markus was jamming his finger into Niklas's chest.

"I thought you agreed that saving the _whole_ _world_ would be enough pay-"

Elsa cut in, pushing her way between the two men—the ground all around them was spider-webbed with frost , snowflakes whirled through the air.

"That's _enough," _her voice was sharp enough to slice right through the toughest of armor, "We have more important things to do than stand around arguing." It was a statement, not a question.

Markus shrugged at Niklas in submission; in return Niklas begrudgingly sighed and uncrossed his arms. Elsa was right, fighting amongst each other was pointless—the illusionist hated to be wrong.

"Now," she said, her tone clearly saying '_we're finished here_', "Tell me more about this 'plan' you keep going on about."

She stood, eyes gleaming, waiting for a response. Why was the _captive_ suddenly in charge again?

Niklas tried to think of the right way to explain what he had mapped out so perfectly in his own mind. He dreaded having to speak—arguing was one thing, having to communicate civilly was another thing entirely.

He missed the inside of his cloak.

* * *

><p>'Woah, where am I?" He said it aloud, he didn't yet know to keep his words in his own mind. No one could hear him from across the lake anyways. "Everything's so <em>bright<em>, but a little cold—and _bland_—some color would be nice."

He flexed his twiggy fingers, "Huh, that's new."

He looked around blankly; well, he didn't know where he was, and he sure didn't know what was going on.

But he knew exactly two things: his name was Olaf, and he liked warm hugs.

* * *

><p>Quick fun fact: In Norwegian <em>skarp<em> means _sharp_. I guess you can tell Markus is incredibly creative :P


	8. Chapter 8

Hello again! I would like to give a quick warning for a little extra violence in this chapter. It is completely necessary, but I thought that I should probably give you guys a heads up. I do hope to get back to a lighter mood soon, so hang on!

Thanks to everyone who gave this story a fav, follow, or review; it really helps me work through my own lack of motive. By the way, since I can't personally respond to them, I would also like to give a special thank you to all my guest reviewers.

So, that brings me to the usual: don't forget to fav/follow/review! Constuctive criticism is welcome!

I don't own Frozen. Seriously.

* * *

><p>Magnus gazed deeply into the conflagration before him. Sometimes he felt as though the fire was trying to help him—as though it was advising him, feeding the hatred that fueled his motives.<p>

Yet other times it was completely different. Other times it brought back memories, and the memories pained Magnus more than anything else. They would sear his heart until it was numbed to the storm of emotions around it—things like compassion, pity, and guilt.

In the end the memories made him stronger, so he welcomed their presence. He allowed them to burn him until he was completely purged of weakness—because in the end that was what emotion was, weakness.

As the memories came flooding in, he realized that the purge was not complete yet—there was so much pain, and he _felt _so much.

He remembered.

* * *

><p><em>The cottage was small and warm, crammed in the streets of Arendelle. It was far away from the harbor and larger houses surrounding the castle—the nicer part of town—and there was a dingy, grimy, feeling that polluted the area around it. <em>

_But it was home. _

_All was quiet and dark, excepting a few live embers that still crackled and glowed in the fireplace. Maybe the light and sound were what attracted Magnus. Perhaps they were what caused him to sleep on the floor beside the hearth with only a threadbare blanket to keep him warm instead of on his own straw bed. _

_Whatever the reason, he had ended up beside the sparse fire that night, just like every other night for as long as he could remember. _

Thump!

_The door slammed open, a tall figure stumbled in—tripping over his own feet every two steps. The noise caused Magnus to open his eyes, not daring to move, but he quickly shut them when he realized who it was, _'Please_, not this again.' _

_He tried to stay very still, praying that he would be overlooked, but it was useless—there was nothing to hide him from view in the under-furnished room. _

_He held his breath and waited for the inevitable, only half hoping that by some divine intervention he would go unnoticed. There was no such luck, he felt warm breathing on his neck that caused his skin to prickle; he smelt the stench of alcohol mingled with sweat. _

_"Magnus!" the call was gruff, and almost sounded happy in a strange, booming sort of way, but Magnus knew better, "Wake up m'boy, wake up!" His words all slurred together—too fast in some places, and too slow in others. Magnus felt large, callused hands shove his skin-and-bones body until it hurt, so he stood up. _

_It was well past midnight. _

_"Papa, please go to bed, I think you're tired," the boy tried, his small voice quavering. He had never gotten over the fear even after so many times of going through the ritual. _

_"Tired? How could I be tired at a time like this? We've got a kingdom to win back! You're great- great-great- uh," the man tried to count the number of greats on his fingers, but soon gave up, "Well, never mind how many greats, he would never have tolerated such laziness! Ruling the world takes discipline!" _

_Magnus sighed—nodding as though he couldn't stop—knowing that there was no arguing with his father, better to agree with everything he said. _

_"Did you hear me son, I said discipline! You always answer when you're sup-super, uh, _superior_ asks you a question!" Magnus wanted to point out that Papa never asked a question, but held his tongue. _

_A dark shadow passed over Papa's face, his eyes glinted darkly—like blooded steel, "Answer me boy! Answer!" _

_"No Papa, Please!" Magnus shrank into the corner of the room until there was no where left to shrink. _

_"ANSWER!" the big man roared, his voice was raw and painful just to listen to. _

_And then came the hitting. _

_At first, Magnus tried to protect his face with his hands, but soon they were so weak and sore that they dropped limply to his sides, leaving his face completely unprotected. There was a steady beat of hands against face, so that soon all Magnus could feel was the punches. He didn't even hear the screams rip from his throat, but he felt them tear through his vocal cords until his voice was pained and bloody just like everything else about him. _

_Occasionally his father would yell something along the lines of, "Coward! You can't even take back what is yours!" but only Magnus's subconscious heard the insults—everything else was too busy hurting. _

_He wished he was his mother—listening to the screams from the back room with thanksgiving that she wasn't the recipient of the drunken rampage. He wished he was one of the neighbors—shaking their head as they hear the clamor, knowing that the town drunk was at it again. _

_He wished he was anyone but himself. He promised himself that one day, things would be different—he would _make_ them different. _

_That promise burned him—not with pain, but with hatred_

* * *

><p><em>Magnus was a man now, though he was only a teen. Working a job as a blacksmith's apprentice, he supported the mother his father never could. He even supported the old drunk himself. <em>

_The powers had come years ago. He had only been able to conjure sparks at first, but had worked his way up to flames that could just fit into the palm of his hands. He kept the powers a secret, even from his own parents; he liked to have something special about him that no one else knew. _

_They would look at him and see a poor boy, but he had a gift none of them could fathom. Someday he would use it to keep his promise—to make things different. He grinned at the thought of the townspeople running from _him_—the poor town drunk's son— he could see the looks of terror on their faces as fire flew from his hands. _

_He sat by the fireplace—which was in full blaze—grinning. He would go to bed soon without any fear of being woken by his father because he was a man now. _

_He had no way of knowing what would happen next. _

Thump!

_The door flung open; for a moment Magnus felt a remnant of his fear from long ago—like a splinter left over from being hit with a plank of wood—but no, he was a man now. _

_"Hello, Father," he said it with indifference. As of late his only interaction with his father had been to hand over the drinking money. _

_"Magnus," the older man said it with the same indifference, but if Magnus was looking—wasn't staring deeply into the fireplace—he would've noticed the glint in his father's eyes. _

_The sound of metal—a dagger—being unsheathed traveled through the air and down Magnus's spine. 'Stay calm. You're a man.' _

_"Where did you get that?" _

_"Does it matter?" the words were jumbled together. Should it surprise Magnus that his father was drunk?" _

_"Put that away." There was venom laced in his voice. _

_"No." _

_His father was upon him quickly, too quickly for a man of his age. For a moment it was just like old times—father beating, son resisting—but then Magnus was cut. _

_It was nothing serious, just a cut to the arm, but all of the hate and anger that had been pint up for so long flowed out of Magnus along with his blood. It was his turn to yell, it was his turn to beat. _

_So he did, with punches at first—the knife clattered to the floor after his first blow. _

_"Take back what is your's father! COWARD!" he snarled. With the snarl came sparks, pouring out of his hands and feet, singing the floor. The fireplace was suddenly overtaken with wicked flames. _

_His father's face was nothing but confusion and terror—Magnus liked it. _

_"Now, now son. You wouldn't—" _

_"I would." _

_In an instant, Magnus's whole body was surrounded by flames; they circled about him before expanding outwards. _

_They engulfed the wooden house and everything in it._

_Magnus didn't understand what he had done at first, and he was horrified as he watched his father reach out a hand in a request for help—not being able to speak due to the smoky coughs that racked his body. _

_Then, something happened to Magnus. He would describe it as a hardening—like molten metal cooling—but in reality, Magnus was breaking._

_He turned, and slowly, ever so slowly, paced out of the house. He took in the moment, felt the heat lick his skin, heard the house creak as it broke down into a pile of scrap. _

_In his head he heard coughing._

_He wouldn't miss any of it. _

* * *

><p>Magnus came back to the present, and suddenly had no desire to be beside the bonfire's heat. He swiftly made his way into one of the tents; inside was a table which held a single map. He looked at it, not really caring what it said—he just needed a place to think without being questioned.<p>

He heard the rustle of the tent door opening; there stood a burly, scarred man who Magnus didn't recognize. He assumed that the man was one of his "troops", if they could be called that, judging by the way the stranger stood at attention.

"Yes?"

"Uh, you- your greatness. We—well I-I have some bad news." The man stammered.

Magnus scowled, his hands were alit. Whoever this was would sincerely regret ever bothering him.

"Niklas and the queen, they—they defeated our party. I'm the only one left."

"Soon you will wish you weren't."

* * *

><p>The moon shone bright and clear, illuminating the landscape with a pale, bleached light; Elsa realized exactly how tired she was from the recent battle. Though she wasn't sore yet, she had the feeling that in the morning her muscles would regret ever trying to fight back.<p>

That wouldn't stop her from learning the plan, though, she was determined to get it out of Niklas even if it was the last thing she did. In his face, she could see that his brain was hard at work, trying to figure out exactly what to say. Markus stood next to her with his arms crossed as if to say, _'We're waiting.'_

Finally Niklas sighed and said, "The plan is to attack the fire elemental—his name is Magnus—before he attacks Arendelle. It's the only way to prevent him from completely destroying the kingdom. To do that we'll have to go to the Arcaneum to get some more support. That's the plan, are you satisfied?"

It made sense. Elsa had learned plenty of strategy in her years of schooling to become queen, some from her own father. This particular strategy was clever and proactive—if not a bit risky.

Because the fire elemental could burn everything around him, then Arendelle—most of which was constructed of wood—wouldn't stand a chance. It was the logical decision to attack Magnus before he had the chance to move on Arendelle.

Markus looked like he was completely happy with the response, but a question burned in Elsa's mind.

"What's the Arcaneum?"

"A place where a bunch of old guys meet up to learn stuff that's even older than them," Markus stated matter-of-factly; Niklas looked rolled his eyes.

"Well, that's one way to put it, if you call the mages 'a bunch of old guys' and the most powerful magic in the world 'stuff'," Niklas said pointedly.

Markus shrugged it off, and Niklas kept going, clearly becoming perturbed, "The point is we need their help to defeat Magnus, got it?" The illusionist sounded like he was sick of talking about the Arcaneum, and Elsa felt at least somewhat informed, so she decided to save her other questions for later.

Elsa was about to suggest that they head back to camp, but Markus waved his hand between her and Niklas's faces, demanding attention, "Uh, hate to remind you, but we've got three evil sorcerers tied up that are going to be seriously annoyed when they wake up."

He did have a point there.

"Right," Niklas agreed, "Go ahead and do it." He said it flatly, like he didn't want to draw attention to the phrase; Markus nodded and headed back towards the edge of the trees closest to the lake.

Elsa was confused at first, and it took a second before the realization dawned on her. When it did her heart dropped into her stomach—it started snowing.

They were going to kill the sorcerers.

Elsa wanted to be wrong, but she knew she wasn't. She knew they were the enemy, she knew that they deserved to die, but she didn't care.

If she started killing defenseless people, or even approving of it, then what made her any different from the fire elemental himself?

"Stop!" Her voice no longer held any power, it was a wavering yelp, but it did the job—Markus stopped and turned around.

Niklas furrowed his brows, looking more annoyed than anything, "I thought you might do this. Those people were going to-"

"_Those people_ can't even defend themselves!" Cold tingled her fingers, threatening to break free from the tight bonds where she held it.

"They would have killed you without a second thought, _majesty-" _

"Don't you _dare_ patronize me!" Ice shot across the ground, the trees in the area were suddenly frostbitten, 'Control it Elsa.'

She took a deep breath, "There has to be another way—some sort of spell, or potion you can use. _You don't have to kill them_."

Elsa hadn't noticed Markus reappear beside her, so it almost startled her when he spoke.

"Actually, that could work. I can make a draught that will erase their memories; they'll be helpless, but at least they'd have a chance," the mercenary—well, mercenary _without pay_—inserted.

Niklas was seething—pushing his hands into his temples; Elsa didn't know why he was so opposed to saving lives when he had the chance—it was more than a little disturbing.

"We won't have time," the illusionist growled.

"It won't take long, besides I already have all the ingredients stored with the rest of the supplies. You _did_ tell me to be prepared." Markus argued.

"Fine, you go back to camp and make the potion. Elsa and I can watch them until you have it ready."

Once Markus had made his way out of sight, Niklas turned back towards Elsa. The anger in his eyes was gone, replaced by something that could only be described as weariness.

"Look, I know that it's hard to justify killing someone. I hate doing it just as much as you do—absolutely _hate_ it—but you have to realize that this is _war_. You've been involved in politics long enough to know how ruthless war is. It's kill or be killed. If you're in the heat of a battle, you can't hesitate, because if you do you're finished.

"I know you may rather sacrifice yourself than kill another person, but you can't. You are much too important for that. if you let yourself die then you might as well be killing all you're people—probably even more than that—understand?" There was a strength in his voice that Elsa had never heard in him before—or had she just missed it?

She didn't know if she was more shocked by Niklas's sudden bluntness, or by the truth in his words. Either way, she gave a single slow nod.

She understood perfectly.

"So—where's the Arcaneum?" While Elsa didn't usually shy away from serious topics, this time she felt the need to change the subject—the current one was just too immediate and daunting.

"Even deeper into the mountains. We should probably leave tonight, after Markus finishes the draught. " Niklas decided shortly; he was back to his usual curt self.

"Will they be after us again so quickly?" Elsa didn't specify who "they" were, but Niklas understood what she meant.

"They will _always_ be after us."

"Ok," was all the queen managed, because there was nothing else to be said.

After that, silence. Niklas pulled his cowl over his head, effectively saying, '_now leave me alone.' _

Elsa desperately missed Anna's smalltalk.

* * *

><p>Anna thought the sleigh was more comfortable than riding horseback, even if it <em>was<em> a little small for three people.

Anna, Hans, and the rest of the search party had camped in the clearing outside of the trading post, using some equipment they had bought from Oaken. It was comfortable enough—the summer air was cool due to elevation, not unbearably cold—but Anna kept thinking she heard a wolf howl, or the crunch of paws on pine needles. It made her jealous of Kristoff and Sven, who slept in a small stable Oaken owned—the stable might have smelled like a horse's behind, but at least it was safe.

Anna finally got to sleep, and (somehow) managed to wake up at the break of dawn the next morning. Once she had a quick makeshift breakfast of dry berries and some cold bread, she found herself jumpy and energetic in an anxious, twitchy sort of way.

When it was time to saddle up, Anna was just about to mount her horse before she made a quick comment about how sore her legs were from riding. It totally wasn't a big deal, but Anna had a habit of exaggerating just the tiniest bit ("My legs are so stiff I can barely move!"), so Hans insisted she ride in Kristoff's sleigh.

Kristoff had no problem with this, he just wanted to be able to drive the sleigh himself. Well, it turned out that _Hans_ had a problem with letting Anna ride alone with Kristoff in the sleigh. After a brief argument between the two men ("I am not giving up _my_ sleigh just so you and you're girlfriend can sit together!" "She's my _fiancée_!") they decided that the only thing to do was cram Anna, Hans, _and_ Kristoff into the vehicle.

Kristoff got in first and took the reigns; Anna moved to follow him, but Hans cut her off and got in before her. Then the prince took her hand and helped her in, eyes twinkling kindly.

So, that was how Anna found herself smushed at the edge of the sleigh, with Hans's arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder and a grumpy looking Kristoff at the reigns. Silence saturated the air just like the grey morning light; it was broken only by the sound of the search party trotting along behind the sleigh.

None of it bothered her, they were going to the ice lakes—they were going to find Elsa.

Well ok, the silence _was_ getting a bit awkward, and Anna didn't do well with silence in general, so she blurted, "Soooo, what were you doing at the ice harvesting lakes, Kristoff?"

"The same thing everyone does, _harvest ice," _he snorted; it was like he didn't even know the meaning of _pleasant conversation_. Besides, Anna knew that technically not _everyone_ did that, because- well, _Elsa_, but she didn't say that.

Instead she just kept talking, because if was better than that stupid silence, "Well, Hans here and I just got engaged—did we already mention that? Actually we met the other night at my sister's cor—uh_, party—_ but we-"

Kristoff stopped her, "Wait, wait, wait, did you just say you guys got engaged even though you _just met_?" his eyes darted back and forth between Anna and Hans.

It was the prince who responded, "Actually we just met two nights ago," he was all smiles, but there was a stubborn hardness underneath meant specifically for Kristoff, "It seems like it was just—"

"Meant to be!" Anna finished with a giggle, Hans nodded in agreement.

Kristoff looked seriously weirded out, but Anna didn't really know why because finishing each other's sentences was nothing compared to talking to a reindeer. Eh, whatever.

* * *

><p>"Exactly how long do you think it's gonna take to get to the ice lakes? Because we need to find my sister before the—well, anyone else notices she's gone," Anna blabbed.<p>

Ok, Kristoff wasn't an idiot. He had figured out by that point that Anna was actually _Princess_ Anna and that her missing sister was Queen Elsa. It really wasn't that hard; Anna wasn't a very good liar, and she let a _lot_ of hints slip on accident.

The thing was, he didn't have the heart to tell her that she was the worst liar on the face of planet earth, or that it was extremely obvious to anyone with half a brain that the queen was missing. He looked into her bright, innocent, blue eyes and felt all the quips he had come up with die on his lips.

So all he said was, "It isn't too far; we should be there by mid-afternoon." He managed not to melt under her unfalteringly warm gaze, mostly because Hans was there, and the ice-harvester's pride was still a little bruised from having to compromise.

Speaking of Hans, he put in his two-bits worth, "We'll find her Anna." He managed to be both comforting and optimistic at the same time; Kristoff realized why Anna had fallen for him so quickly, that didn't mean _he_ had to like Prince Perfect.

Instead of thinking too much about the prince and princess in his sleigh, Kristoff made himself think about the queen who was missing. He thought about the service he was doing to Arendelle, because while he wasn't exactly patriotic, he knew that a lot of good people depended on the country's wellbeing—and therefore the queen's wellbeing.

Oh, who was he kidding, he also thought about the payment he would get from the princess—enough money for a whole wagon-full of carrots and as much supplies as he would ever need.

Only in the very deepest parts of his mind, he thought about a heroes welcome, and the respect he would get from a people who had never found much use for him.

All of this went through his mind as he watched the forest meld into a blur of greens and browns. He didn't even notice when the scraping sound of sleigh-runners against dirt changed into the crisp crunch of metal on snow—this occurred less than a mile away from Oaken's Trading Post. Nor did he stir when Anna began to shiver, and Hans offered her his coat.

The mountain man's body was on autopilot; his mind was somewhere else.


	9. Chapter 9

Hello lovelies! Alright, I know it's been a while, but I come bearing good news! For one thing, the first chapter of the companion series of one-shots going along with this story is up! It's titled Re-Wind, so go check it out! Next, I'm now officially on SUMMER BREAK *belts "In Summer"* which means that I should be able to update a bit more frequently.

Anyways, thanks so much to everyone who gave a fav, follow or review last chapter, and please keep it up! I love any kind of support, feedback, or _whatever_ I can get.

Well, that's about it! I hope you enjoy!

I don't own Frozen.

* * *

><p>Elsa was jostling around in the back of the wagon. Her eyes were threatening to lull shut to the rhythmic bumps and jolts of rickety wheels pushing through slush.<p>

She hadn't slept well the night before. After Markus's draught was administered to the captured enemies, the trio had taken a short hike away from the lakes—just in case something went wrong with the potion's effects. Then, as soon as they reached the new campsite, they silently agreed to go straight to bed.

It took Elsa a while to get comfortable on the cold, hard ground, and once she finally did drift off she dreamt of blinding light fading to black and plants withering.

So, although the creaky wooden wagon didn't make for an especially relaxing ride (neither did the mercenary and illusionist also squeezed into the cart), and her muscles were sore from yesterday's battle (just as she had suspected they would be) Elsa found herself in a strange state somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

She was glad that Markus had the reins because that meant Niklas could stay alert—and she wouldn't have to.

The queen halfheartedly took note that she was still in her coronation gown, now soiled and torn, and that she should probably change soon for discretion if nothing else. She would have to ask Niklas if he had any spare dresses in his large supply of—well, supplies.

Elsa let her head fall back against the cart's stiff wooden sideboard and squinted her eyes against the mid-morning sun.

She hadn't realized before then that saving the world would take so much _traveling_. She couldn't help but think of the legends she used to read about "great journeys"; they never mentioned riding in farm carts with itchy hay.

With that thought, sleep finally found her.

* * *

><p>"Woah," Anna sighed dreamily upon getting out of the sleigh. One of the ice lakes spread before her—shining with a dazzling luminance—and it was surrounded on all sides by beautiful white snow, and it would be absolutely <em>perfect<em> for snowmen, and there was just so much _woah_. In that moment, she couldn't imagine anything as beautiful as the frozen scene she was looking at.

It took her a fraction of a second to remember why she was there, but when she did she said, "I think we should probably split up and look for any sign of Elsa around here." She surprised herself with how steady her voice was upon mentioning her sister. She wouldn't admit it, but the princess was convinced that Elsa was just on the other side of the lake, waiting to be rescued; it was mostly that hope that kept her going.

"Ok," Hans nodded; with a gloved hand, he indicated the directions he wanted the search party to go, and little by little they dispersed around the area.

From where he was un-hitching Sven, Kristoff called, "So, what do I do now?" For a second Anna wanted to say that she _just_ told him, pay attention, but then she figured out that he meant what he_ specifically_ would do because, like, he was kind of a separate party.

So, the princess was just about to answer him, but Hans broke in before she could—which was fine because she really didn't know what she was going to say anyways—so yeah, Hans said, "I think we can find our own way back from here. Thank you for your services, you're free to go."

'Wait, what?'

She watched as the mountain man opened his mouth to argue, closed it just as quickly, then opened it again to ask, "What about payment?"

Hans nodded and procured a bloated money pouch from his coat, "Will that be enough?" he smiled graciously in the bigger man's direction and Anna couldn't help but think how well he was handling this. The only thing was, she wasn't quite sure she _wanted_ Kristoff to go, but like, she couldn't say that out loud because it was kind of bordering on _insane_.

The mountain man narrowed his eyes—Anna realized that he did it almost habitually—before he held out a large palm and accepted the pouch. He peered into it, inspecting the gold inside, and pulled the drawstrings shut, looking satisfied. Well, at least Anna _thought_ he was satisfied, and she tried not to notice the whisper of something like regret in his eyes.

Then Kristoff announced, "Thanks, but I'm going to stick around here for a while." Was it just her, or did Hans frown, ever so slightly, at the announcement? Well, it was no secret the two didn't exactly _get along_. Anyways, The mountain man continued, "No point in an _ice_ harvester coming all this way to an _ice_ lake without even _harvesting any ice_, right Sven?" the reindeer panted happily in agreement.

For some reason Anna's heart did this kind of flutter thing that made her want to jump up and down and clap her hands at the news, but she squelched the ridiculous feeling out. In the past she would have said that maybe she lov—well, _liked_ Kristoff a lot—but that was just her stupid talking because she was in _true_ love with Hans.

To reassure herself of this fact, Anna took the prince by the crook of his arm and said, "We'd better start looking."

She dragged Hans to no where in particular, just as much to get away from the mountain man—and that fluttery feeling—as to look for her sister.

* * *

><p>When he was certain Anna wasn't looking, Hans glanced down at his coat pocket—making sure he could still see the slight bulge which indicated that his "evidence" was inside.<p>

He could.

In his defense, he _had_ found it at the lakes—snatched it while the princess and most everyone else was busy staring slack-jawed at the area. With its help, he could easily make it seem as though the queen had met an abrupt and ill-fated demise. It wouldn't take much—not to convince Anna—a tear here, a red berry smear there and she would be in hysterics.

The harder part would be getting her _out_ of hysterics long enough to finish off the plan. It was not in his favor that Elsa's last wish had been to cut off the engagement, it would be hard for Anna to overlook that once she was in grieving.

Good thing that Hans was going to be there to comfort her, every step of the way.

* * *

><p>Kristoff didn't want to be the third wheel, he really didn't. He just wasn't sure what to do with himself until everyone else left, and he had just enough social grace—or at least <em>common sense<em>—not to start carving up the ice while a prince and princess were still on it.

So, he ended up wandering around the lake, half looking for the queen and half trying to avoid—well, everyone.

'Yeah right,' a voice that sounded suspiciously like Sven snorted in his mind, 'No point in denying it—you're really just trying to avoid _her_."

Ok fine, Kristoff couldn't help but notice Anna; the princess was so kind, and gentle, and clumsy, and slightly insane, and just generally _warm_. There was something significantly _not right_ every time the mountain man saw her with Hans, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was like trying to hold a snowflake with a mitten—every time he grasped at what was wrong, the reasons would melt away.

_Bonk. _

Kristoff strolled straight into a especially large pine tree, then wheeled around to make sure no one else saw—he felt heat rise to his cheeks even though there was no one in sight. Sven made the reindeer equivalent of a chuckle. This was just _great _because now he was starting to daydream on top of caring about people.

He didn't let himself think '_Daydream just like Anna_,' because he was frightened, more than anything, that he was beginning to lov- like her—as in _like_ like her—and if he started to put things in terms of _her_ then the fear would be one step closer to reality.

The whole thing was irrational, and stupid, and you shouldn't like a person _that much_ after only one day. On top of all that, it was absolutely impossible because Anna was already engaged to Prince Perfect.

Kristoff told himself he didn't feel the pit at the bottom of his stomach.

He was interrupted from his dilemma that he refused to believe was actually a dilemma by shouts of, "They've found something!" and, "Come on, over here!" erupting from the other side of the lake. He ran to follow the voices, hoping for the best.

* * *

><p>They were moving slowly: much, much too slowly.<p>

Niklas could see every individual frost covered pine-needle and cone they passed, which wasn't right at all because he knew that—if they were going fast enough—it should all be one big blur of_ forest_. However, the fact remained that it wasn't, and the illusionist realized that he should probably do something about it soon when all of the sudden-

_Crack!_

After the initial cracking noise, there was a series of creaks and groans before the whole wagon jerked violently to one side. Then they just stopped.

They definitely didn't have time for this.

"Markus, what exactly just happened?" Niklas asked, and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn't like he didn't know already, but he was hoping against hope that it wasn't true; he was trying so hard to keep his cool because on the inside he was- was—

"What do you _think_ blondie?" Markus groaned while fiddling with one of his many talismans and lifting his eyes to the heavens for an answer, but all Niklas _could_ think was that he absolutely couldn't handle the backtalk at the moment.

A moaning noise came from the back of the wagon followed by a drowsy, "Are we there yet?" Niklas noted that Elsa must be a light sleeper. He always tried to keep track of other peoples' tendencies because you just never knew when it they might come in handy. Plus, the better you knew a person, the easier it was to deceive them—that's what illusion really boiled down to, deception.

He was so busy pondering the true meaning of illusion—and deception, and, while he was at it, _life_—that he completely ignored Elsa's question and instead replied with, "Welcome back to the real world, it took you long enough." As soon as he said it he wished he hadn't, and he knew he deserved the frigid glare the queen sent his way.

He wasn't so sure he deserved the hard slap to the back of the head Markus gave him—sometimes he forgot how annoyingly _strong_ his partner was. As he was trying to rub some of the pain away the mercenary hissed, "A bit harsh, don't you think," then continued in a louder voice, "Sorry Elsa, you caught blondie at a bad time; we've got a bit of a- er, problem on our hands."

Elsa nodded slowly, allowing several strands of white-blond hair to fall out of her braid in the process, but said nothing—Niklas knew he _really_ needed to get better at the whole social interaction thing.

Trying not to dwell on his own lack of tact, he quickly said, "A wheel fell off—well, that is it probably fell off because of the snow, and it's not a sleigh." Niklas closed his mouth before it caused any more damage. _That_ was why he usually didn't attempt smalltalk—everything sounded so much better in his head.

Despite his poorly constructed explanation, Elsa seemed to get the basic idea of what happened and asked, "How are we going to get to the Arcaneum then?"

Markus saved the illusionist from having to answer by stating, "We'll have to walk. If we each split up the supplies we should be able to make it there in decent time."

"Alright then," Elsa sighed, she looked to Niklas like something was wrong, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

So, he hopped nimbly out of the wagon and started grabbing bags of supplies. He shuddered as some snow wormed it's way into one of his socks, and he gained a new-found appreciation for his sturdy boots.

While he was gearing up for the hike, the illusionist tried to look ahead for any indicator of how close by the Arcaneum was.

All he could see was miles and miles of white.

* * *

><p>Anna couldn't believe her eyes, because although the item wasn't spectacularly unusual, it was <em>Elsa's, <em>so it had to mean _something_.

She looked more closely at the delicate violet fabric draped over Hans's hands, and soon realized that something was definitely amiss. For one thing, the cloth was _dirty, _which you don't see every day on a brand new piece of coronation clothing. For another, there were two thin slit's in the fabric, which by themselves didn't mean anything. No, what really got Anna was the caked red blooming from around the slits.

Because that was undoubtedly Elsa's cape, it wasn't with her, and it was dirty, torn, and _bloody_.

The princess barely heard Hans say that he was "So sorry Anna," since her mind was already occupied with jumping from one conclusion to another. She was suddenly dizzy, and there was acrid bile rising in her throat, and her heart was dropping, and she was so, so _cold_.

It was happening all over again, Elsa was on a ship and would see her in two weeks—which was really another way of saying _never_. The worst part was that Anna had waited a whole night—all of twelve hours—to go looking for her sister. Those twelve hours could have meant the difference between life or death.

'No, _please_ not Elsa. Not Elsa too.'

It was like her mind couldn't handle the thought, and so it just closed the gates to protect what was still undamaged.

Anna sank to her knees. The only thing playing in her mind was the nauseating pounding of the ocean waves against a sunken ship. Well, that and the deafening roar of a blizzard.

* * *

><p>Hans called for someone to help him make sure Anna was alright; in a way he liked to play the hero.<p>

Just so long as things went his way in the end, he would happily fill the role of the dashing prince in shining armor.

And so far, things were going _exactly_ how he wanted them to.

* * *

><p>"Is- is she ok?" Kristoff asked, standing over Anna's still—not lifeless, <em>please<em> not lifeless—body.

"I think so, she's probably in shock. We just need to get her back to the castle," Hans replied looking only halfway shaken, and again Kristoff got this obscure feeling that the guy just wasn't _right_.

"I have some friends, they- they could help. They're much closer than the palace," Kristoff stammered; he didn't even know why he was so worried, because really, she had only fainted.

Then it occurred to him that there had to be something that _caused_ her to faint, and that the whole reason they came was to find the queen, and-

"Thank you, but there's really no need," Hans smiled, but underneath the smile Kristoff could see the faintest implication of distrust, "We'll just take her back to the castle," the prince repeated.

Hidden between the fine lines of kindness and gratitude Kristoff got the real message,_ 'Shove off.' _

"Well, I guess I'll just stay here then."

"Arendelle thanks you for your help." Hans shook the mountain man's hand, but the grip was a little _too_ firm, and Kristoff half wanted to ask on who's authority the prince got to speak for Arendelle.

Instead he settled for, "Wait, what about the que- uh, Elsa?"

Hans's response was somewhere between condescending and sympathetic, "Don't you understand? Elsa was _murdered_."

Kristoff shuddered and suddenly all he could look at was the bloodstained cape. The narrow, almost perfectly straight cuts that meant death, the blood saturating the cloth- except, _wait_—he had seen blood before (it was hard to avoid when you lived with a bunch of mystical healers) and the color red on the cape was a shade too bright, even for freshly spilled blood. The mountain man _almost_ said something, because Sven's voice in is head was screaming a warning, and there was a strange glint in the pale green eyes staring right at him, and yet-

In the end he just sighed, "Goodbye," because how could an ice-harvester go up against Prince Perfect—even if there was something incredibly _wrong_ about the said prince.

Kristoff watched as the search party left him behind with only Sven, "Looks like it's just you and me buddy." He told himself that it was ok—that he was used to it.

He silently decided to stay on the look out for anything to do with the queen, because he had this sinking feeling that Elsa wasn't nearly as dead as Hans made her out to be.

But it was only a feeling, right?

* * *

><p>Elsa was so tired, and there was nothing to do about it other than keep walking.<p>

The pack on her back felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and her feet felt like she had just gone through ballroom-dance lessons in her highest heels. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to collapse and take a nap, but she didn't dare say anything. She knew she couldn't afford to waste any time getting to the Arcaneum, and in all honesty she didn't want to seem like a wimp in front of her—teammates? Was that what they were now?

So, she ignored every muscle and sinew in her body and walked. Left foot, right foot.

"Hey guys, I know you aren't exactly the- _talkative_ type, but if we don't do something soon I'm going to start sharpening Skarp—for _fun_," Markus broke the silence; Elsa hadn't even realized how long she had gone without speaking. 'Anna normally handled the whole talking thing herself,' the queen realized glumly.

"Funny, I never thought you were the psychotic type," Niklas deadpanned back to his partner; Elsa was starting to get used to their constant bickering.

"No, seriously Niklas," Elsa guessed that, to Markus, using the illusionist's real name denoted sincerity, "We can't walk the whole way to the Arcaneum without saying anything."

Niklas groaned like he would rather give himself over to Magnus than have a legitimate conversation.

"Oh, I've got it!" Markus continued without waiting for his partner's undoubtedly negative response, "Let's get to know each other a little better," his voice was suddenly deeper, and he waggled an eyebrow at Elsa; she couldn't help but crack a smile.

"And how do you suggest we do _that_," Niklas grimaced.

"I dunno, just tell each other stuff—where you're from, what you like to do, _favorite color_. If you can't think of anything then I'll ask, because I refuse to go on this entire freaking _journey_ without knowing anything about you."

"I'm in," Elsa found herself saying, because it seemed like the idea might even manage to take her mind off of things.

"Oh, fine. I'll play along," Niklas sighed after a long period of silence, excepting the crunch of feet on snow.

"Good, I'll start," the mercenary grinned crookedly, "I'm from a nomadic druid village, I like to write poems and-"

"Wait, _you_ like to write poems?" Niklas sniggered, and Elsa could barely stifle a giggle rising in her throat.

"Yes, thank you very much. You wouldn't laugh if you saw some of the ladies I've snagged with a good sonnet." Niklas rolled his eyes; this time Elsa couldn't stop a quick snort from escaping.

Markus huffed, shoved his hands in his pockets, and finished dejectedly with, "My favorite color is red."

"How about you Niklas?" Elsa grabbed the opportunity to take the floor; she had been wanting to ask this for a long time, and now she could find out without seeming like she was prying "Where are you from?"

* * *

><p>Kristoff decided he had better get to work harvesting ice if he wanted to get anything done before the sun set. He had just finished unpacking his sleigh when he heard a twig snap.<p>

"That you Sven?" maybe he was just paranoid—

"Nuh, uh," Sven answered with a gulp.

Kristoff spun around to face the mysterious noise, putting one finger to his lips—well, it was really more like four fingers considering that he was wearing mittens.

He could hear talking in the distance, and it was getting louder.

". . .I wonder where everyone is. I bet they're all somewhere warmer. . ." a rather goofy sounding voice jabbered.

Kristoff took a very cautious step forward and peeked into the treeline, not sure what he was expecting to find. He had gotten just about enough of insane people for one day, though, that much was for sure.

At first he didn't see anything, but the voice was definitely _real_, so eventually he looked down. What he saw was two large eyes, gazing back at him.

"Hi, I'm Olaf and I like warm hugs!"

Great, an insane snowman. An insane, _talking_ snowman—or was Kristoff the one going crazy?


	10. Chapter 10

Okay, so here's the thing: when I said that I would update more frequently I meant it, completely. . .The only problem is that my computer broke—twice. Yup the thing wouldn't even turn on, and it took forever actually find and fix the problem. Any reviews I answered were done through my phone. I'm really sorry, I am, but there was nothing I could do about it.

On a lighter note, Thanks to everyone who gave fav's, follows, and reviews! This chapter was hard-ish to push through, but I did it with you're help! Keep being awesome!

Oh, and I fixed this problem in the last A/N but I'm going to give a heads up to anyone who didn't see it after I did: the companion series for this story is called Re-_Wind _notRe-Freeze. Sorry for any confusion; I promise I wasn't trolling you.

Anyways, I don't own Frozen (I know, shocker). Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

><p>Elsa kept her walking pace quick but steady as she waited for Niklas's response. Though she was beyond worn out, her curiosity opened up some hidden store of energy she hadn't known was there before.<p>

There was an uncomfortable pause before the illusionist said, "No comment, and besides it's a _very_ long story." He proceeded to shift his eyes between Markus and Elsa, daring them to ask any more about his life.

But this time Elsa wasn't backing down.

"Yeah, because we _obviously_ don't have any time on our hands," she deadpanned, both annoyed and frustrated by Niklas's refusal; she didn't even feel her voice rise when she continued, "You know, I've had just about enough of all your secrecy. You expect me to follow you around and just trust that you aren't lying to me, but I don't even know anything about you!"

By the time she had finished, Elsa could feel her hands freezing over; she hadn't really meant to say so much, but once she started talking the words just sort of kept pouring out. It scared her that she let her filter slip so much around Markus and Niklas, more than she had around almost everyone but her sister. . .

It wasn't that she was usually antisocial, just _careful_. Most of her "friends" had been political allies or wealthy individuals she had known since she was a child; around those sort of people she had to be constantly on her toes, and could only say what was prudent—not what she actually _wanted_.

For the first time in forever, she had the freedom to speak her mind whenever she pleased without the risk of ruining her kingdom's relations. Should she though? Should she really allow herself to open up to people she had known for less than a few days?

She was snapped from her thoughts by Niklas's reply, "You first," he gave a small nod in Elsa's direction.

"What?" Was he trying to change the subject? It wouldn't work.

"Call it trust issues. Tell me more about yourself and I'll tell you about my past, since that's clearly what you're getting at," Niklas smirked with one corner of his mouth; why was it that he only smiled when she was angry with him?

"I asked first," she pointed out, not caring that the argument was childish at worst and weak at best—at that moment she just wanted answers, "If you have trust issues then deal with it, because you're the one who decided it would be a good idea to kidnap me in the first place."

It wasn't until Markus inserted, "Oh, _stone cold_, Elsa," with his usual grin, that the queen realized she had allowed herself to—_go off_ again. Was it really so bad? It certainly _felt_ good.

Surprisingly, a few seconds after Markus was done with his outburst, Niklas caved.

"Fine, but just- just give me a minute," he pleaded quietly, fiddling with a worn corner of his robe, and avoiding eye contact like it was the plague.

"Alright," Elsa agreed, ignoring the urge to make another quip along the lines of _'We have more than enough time,' _because some things really _were_ better left unsaid.

After an awkward silence that caused even Markus, who was usually immune to uncomfortable situations of any sort, to start whistling nervously—and very annoyingly—Niklas started talking. At some points he spoke so quickly that Elsa had a hard time keeping up. It was like he was afraid that the words would escape him if he waited too long.

"I—" he took a deep breath," I was born into a middle class family in Arendelle. When I was around eight or nine years old, I started to notice some unusual things happening. I would wake up in the morning with a different color hair, or sometimes I would even be standing right in front of someone, but they couldn't see me—I wasn't invisible, just. . .sort of, _unnoticeable_.

"After a while I decided to read up on it, and eventually figured out that I was, err, magical. So, as a nine-year old, I thought that it was cool. I started practicing. Long story short, my parents learned about my powers eventually and kicked me out—you'd be surprised how many people are afraid of magic just because they can't understand how it works."

Elsa wasn't surprised at all.

Niklas continued, "For a while I ran out of town and lived on, well, nothing. Then the Mages from the Arcaneum took me in, and that's probably why I'm still here today. They taught me more about my powers, how to live off the land, and, most importantly, that knowledge is, um- _important_. It wasn't too long before I left, and then lived on my own up until—now, really."

Niklas had a clouded, distant look in his eyes until he seemingly woke up and raised an eyebrow, "Any questions?"

"No," Elsa replied lamely;for once she really _didn't_ have any—at least none she could think of. The illusionist had pretty much explained his whole life away, using more words than Elsa had ever heard him speak at once. As insufferable as he could be, the queen couldn't help but feel sorry for him; the only support he had ever gotten was from the Mages. . . at least he had that much.

"Well then, looks like it's your turn highness," Niklas declared, suddenly slipping back into his mask of haughty, sarcastic indifference, and making Elsa lose almost all the sympathy she had gained for him.

Still, she would never look at him the same way, because she had finally met someone who knew what it meant to be alone even more totally than she did.

For only a moment, Elsa thought she saw a flash of ginger braids and excited blue eyes, 'My whole life, I've had at least _one_ person.'

* * *

><p>Anna opened her eyes, and for a single blissful moment, the world was just like it should be—just like it was before.<p>

Then she realized that she was not in her room, or in the palace at all, but instead slumped over the back of the horse with Hans hovering directly beside her on his own mare—probably making sure she didn't fall off.

Even then she would've been able to convince herself that everything was alright, because, after all, she _was_ with her true love. Or at least she would've been able to convince herself _if_ she hadn't seen a telltale slip of violet fabric hanging out of Hans's saddlebag—and with the violet came the _red_.

Waves of grief thudded in her chest, slowly spreading outward like they were pumped through her blood, but she wouldn't let herself think where they came from. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that they hurt just to get away from the red—her new absolute _least_ favorite color—but that couldn't stop the tears—why were they always so warm? It seemed like they should be cold—from falling quietly out.

After the tears came, she felt a churning, rolling sickness well up in her stomach that mingled with her sadness to form pure, unadulterated, _suffering_.

She realized that she was seasick, frostbitten, or whatever other stupid puns you could get out of the pain she was experiencing, because a selfish corner of her being wanted to _laugh_.

Well, not just laugh. It wanted to get drunk on laughter, and forget everything, and go numb until the day she died.

But in the end, the _un_selfish part of her won out, because she cared too much about Hans, and the kingdom, and—hey, she even cared a little about Kristoff for some weird reason.

If she stopped- stopped _functioning_, then everyone she cared about—that cared about her—would get caught in the crossfire of her own personal battle.

Anna didn't want to hurt anyone else, so out of sheer willpower she fell back asleep—staving off the seasickness, and frostbite, and even the laughter.

* * *

><p>"Uh . . ." Kristoff stood dumbstruck, mouth agape, trying to decide if what he saw was real or just a side-effect of being around too many crazy, ridiculously happy people in one day.<p>

Because, _apparently_, if you hung around Anna and Prince Perfect for long enough you started to see talking snowmen, but not _just_ talking snowmen, no it didn't stop there. Kristoff was staring right at a genuine, bonafide, walking, talking, _living_ snowman (that likes warm, that's right folks, _warm_ hugs!).

So, once the ice harvester regained what was left of his composure, he felt fairly justified in turning around and walking away—never once responding to Olaf. He buried his face in the soft brushed leather of his mittens, trying to rub the hallucination from his eyes, but he hadn't walked a few steps before he heard, "Oh, so we're going this way," followed shortly by, "What's you're name again?"

Kristoff was torn between responding and continuing to ignore the oddity. While he was fairly sure that Olaf wasn't _real_, on the off chance that he _was_ Kristoff didn't want to be rude. . .What if the snowman had magical ice-harvester freezing powers or something?

He finally mumbled, "I'm Kristoff," as he continued to walk slowly away from Olaf, looking over his shoulder periodically to make sure the snowman hadn't disappeared.

"Well, it's good to meet you Kristoff." Olaf said over-enthusiastically as he waddled along behind the much larger man.

"Uh-huh," Kristoff nodded absentmindedly, more focused on exactly how the whole 'living snowman' thing worked than on his reply. Were the arms really sticks, or just some sort of mystical snowman material?

Kristoff didn't have time to work out an answer before he felt himself slam into the furry yet painfully firm body of a certain reindeer, effectively knocking the wind out of him.

_Really? _First the tree and then _Sven_? Come on, that was twice in one day!

He tried vainly to disguise his blunder by leaning on Sven, resting one elbow on the reindeer's back. In turn, Sven gave something like a chortle and trotted smugly a short distance away—just far enough that Kristoff lost his balance and stumbled a few feet before catching himself on a conifer.

The ice-harvester tried to glare at his reindeer, but both parties knew that he wasn't _really_ angry, so he resigned to crossing his arms—not quite sure what to do with himself.

Olaf, who seemed oblivious to what had just happened, smiled blankly and asked, "So, uh- who's the reindeer?" just as the said reindeer moved to sniff curiously at the strange new creature before it.

"That's Sven," Kristoff responded, finally deciding that Olaf was probably not going to vanish for the time being; he began to unpack the rest of his gear.

"Uh-huh. . .Whatcha doing?" The initial intrigue of the 'live snowman' having worn off, Kristoff was beginning to get annoyed by Olaf.

"Unpacking so I can harvest ice."

"Oh, that's nice, but I wish you were harvesting something warmer, like blankets, or kittens, or-"

"So, I'm guessing you like warm things. . ."

"Yup!"

"Really? Like, let me get this straight, you would enjoy being around things that are _warm_? "

"I think we've already established that."

Kristoff shook his head.

"Nevermind."

He wanted to put off telling the snowman the cold hard reality for as long as possible, for that matter he didn't want to tell him at all—but _somebody_ had to tell him. . .

* * *

><p>"So, that's pretty much my life. I know it's not as emotionally stirring as your story, Niklas, but you <em>did<em> ask," Elsa explained after filling the other two in on her backstory. She didn't go into much detail, just the basic, 'I've got a sister, my parents died when I was a teen, and my whole life revolved around being the future queen until I actually became the queen. Oh yeah, there's always the ice-powers too.' She tried to keep the narrative as brief as possible.

"I have to disagree, you were stunningly articulate next to blondie here," Markus chuckled as he worked his way around a protruding root.

Niklas scoffed, but shockingly made no attempt to retort. Instead he simply said, "Well, now we know each other."

"Anyone up for twenty questions?" Markus pleaded, smiling crookedly.

Niklas hurriedly drew his hood over his face.

* * *

><p>The softness of a pillow. The warmth of hands, not gloved, gently setting her down. The sinking into a mattress that reminded her of the sinking of her heart.<p>

These were what Anna felt on her return to the palace—to her home. It felt better, but still wrong, and she wondered if she would ever feel _right_ again.

She opened her eyes once she heard the door click softly shut behind whoever carried her in, and everything reminded her of Elsa. The closet still contained several of the queen's dresses that the princess forgot to return. The jewelry box held a necklace, Anna's favorite, that her sister had given her. The occasional crack or warped area on the wooded floor remained from where Elsa had been _really_ upset—but still came to her little sister, not for advice, for someone who would _listen_.

The worst was that stupid portrait sitting on the front right-hand corner of her dresser. The only physical reminder she had of ever being in a complete, whole, _unbroken_ family. And that was the thing, it was nothing more than a reminder, a memory, and ultimately something that wasn't _true_ anymore. It had never been more of a lie, because Anna realized that now, it was just her.

She was alone.

The thought prevailed until she embraced the unthinking, unfeeling trance of sleep.

* * *

><p>It took some time for anything to break the boring routine of life for either Anna or Elsa. For a while Anna kept pushing her emotions away, and Elsa kept trekking forth. Even Kristoff did very little in that time except harvest ice, though he did give Olaf a carrot nose (there was just something unsettling about seeing a snowman without a nose).<p>

To be exact, it took three days for something to truly _happen _in their lives (giving Anna a painful reminder of the three days she took to grieve her parents).

In three days, things started to change.

* * *

><p>Kristoff had finally packed up to leave the mountains, lock stock and barrel. He had a whole sleigh-full of ice just waiting to be sold to the shops of Arendelle, and if he was lucky, the palace—though he was hoping to avoid seeing any of the royal residents there.<p>

_That_ would be awkward.

He wiped the beads of sweat that were starting to form off his brow. Sweat equals bad news in below freezing temps.

"Time to get going Sven," the man said with a sigh born of both exhaustion and contentedness.

"Where are we going?" Olaf continued his relentless flurry of questions and commentary that Kristoff was finally starting to get accustomed to.

"Me and Sven are going to the city. You, on the other hand, are staying here," the mountain-man tried to stay firm as Olaf's face grew more and more disappointed. Why did the little guy have to be so stinking—not _cute_ exactly. . .but for some reason Kristoff had become a bit more attached than he originally planned. He seemed to be talented at that.

"You mean you're not taking me? What if Elsa's there?" Sven rolled his eyes at the snowman's dramatics.

"First of all, Elsa's- well she's just—not there. . .And second of all there's some things you need to know about being a snowman that- Wait a second . . .How do you know about Elsa?"

There were a lot of people in Arendelle with the name Elsa, but this couldn't just be a coincidence . . .

"Oh, that's easy, she made me—did I forget to mention that?"

"I. Am. Such. An. _Idiot!_" Kristoff exclaimed, facepalming so hard it stung.

'How didn't you figure this out before? There are only so many people in this world with _magical freezing abilities!'_ his inner voice/Sven's voice sounded in his head.

"Wait, does that- No, it can't. . .Does that mean that—Elsa's _alive_? Wait, wait, are _you_ alive?Sven is he really alive?"

"Yup," Sven answered at the same time that Olaf said, "I think so . . ." Kristoff literally couldn't believe his ears, this changed everything- it could even change his whole _life_. Suddenly his mouth was dry.

"Uh- okay, um we should go to the Trolls. Yeah, they'll know for sure—right, Trolls- the ice can wait. . .So, come on Olaf, get on the sleigh!"

Obediently, the snowman hopped aboard with a cheerful exclamation of, "Let's go save Elsa! That is what we're doing right?"

* * *

><p>"I can see it!" Markus's husky voice pierced the air, excitement ringing through every word.<p>

Niklas watched as his partner sprinted to a nearby tree and climbed into the lower branches for a better view. He also watched as Elsa followed laughing—no doubt out of joy to finally have hope for something other than an eternity of walking.

"What does it look like?" she wondered aloud to Markus. She was clearly curious, but not so curious that she was willing to soil one of her few comfortable dresses (yes, he had thought to pack some) by climbing a tree.

For once, Niklas was every bit as excited as his companions, though not as curious. He was going home—or at least to the closest thing he ever had to one. He knew what it looked like, and didn't hurry to follow Markus, but he did listen with some interest to how the mercenary would describe it.

"It's- _big_," Niklas snorted at that, though no one else seemed to notice, "Yeah, huge and really _white_," Niklas knew the white was sandstone, "I think it's kind of glowing in some places, and it's- it looks, I dunno, _castle-y._" Well, the mercenary had gotten the main aspects across, anyways.

What he hadn't mentioned was the things most people wouldn't notice—Niklas's favorite things. Like how the whole structure had been built _around _the land instead of plowing through it, or how it was mostly vacant with plenty of room for solitude when necessary. Things like this were what made it most special to Niklas.

"Let's get going, unless you just intend to gawk at it forever," the illusionist goaded,giving a rare genuine smile.

And why not keep smiling? He was happy.

* * *

><p>There was a knock at Anna's door.<p>

That knock was no different from every other knock that she had heard in the past three days—all of which were made by either Kai or Hans who asked if they could come in and, given no response, left her meals at the door. And yet, it _was_ different because, that time, Anna answered.

She opened the door. The knocker was Hans, carrying a plate of perfectly prepared—and perfectly unappealing—food.

"Anna! Are you all right? We've all been so _worried_, but we wanted to give you your space, and-"

"I know," Anna said, eyes averted to the polished wood floor, only daring to look at Hans through his reflection in the shiny surface. For some reason she was anxious, her stomach did flip-flops at the sound of the prince's concerned voice. Maybe it was because she _did_ know what he was going through, and it wasn't pleasant; she had been experienced almost the exact same thing when her parents-

'No, don't think about it. Don't feel.'

"Thank you," she mumbled, just barely managing to meet eyes with Hans for a fleeting moment before they flew back to the ground.

"Anna-" the prince started, caught his breath, and continued, "There's something you need to know. The- _Elsa's_ funeral is today. I know it's hard, but—Anna you have to go."

"Hans—" whatever she was about to say was strangled out of existence by a desperate sob; it was as though the sobs were air, and Anna hadn't been able to breathe for days.

She tried to stop, but couldn't; her knees trembled before completely giving out. It was the first time since Elsa died that Anna had allowed herself to truly realize what happened.

Hans carefully caught her by her waist, "You need to sit down," he announced before planting Anna on top of her bed and a kiss on top of her head. The meal lie forgotten on the princess's bedside table.

"I- I don't think I can do this. I _can't_ do this," she trembled. '_This'_ entailed a lot of things: going to the funeral, smiling, talking, moving, eating, loving, _living_.

"You _can_, I'll be there with you," Hans assured; Anna could tell that he was considering only the funeral. He lifted her wobbling chin with one hand; the fabric of his glove was warm against her skin, "Anna, you can do this," his green eyes were a poultice numbing her soul, "Please, not just for me, your people _need_ to see you."

Anna was shocked at first when he said they were _her_ people, but she soon remembered that it was true; they _were_ her people now.

She wanted to say that she didn't care who needed her, that she couldn't do it, _any_ of it, but she _didn't_ say it. Because, more than anything, Anna cared.

"Okay," she sighed, lightly tugging her chin from Hans's grasp and her eyes from his gaze, "Just, please don't leave me. Not yet."

"Anna, I will never leave you." Okay, so he was being a little more figurative than she was, but still.

She believed him.


End file.
